The Autocrat
by camiferz
Summary: In the elite Falls Academy, four plutocrats known as The Archetypes own the school. Led by Damon Salvatore, they take high school tyranny to a new level. But when Elena Gilbert dares to defy him, he thinks she'll either fall for him or be the fall of him.
1. ENCHANTÉ, PLUTOCRATS

**The Autocrat**

**CHAPTER 1 - ENCHANTÉ, PLUTOCRATS**

"**You **_**hate**_** me, huh? That **_**sounds like the**__** beginning **__**of**_**a love story. Not the end of one." - Katherine Pierce**

"Your bag is absolutely gorgeous! I've never seen anything like it," one girl squealed. Her coiffure reeked of hairspray.

"Oh, it's a Fendi, all the way from Vegas. I literally had to _beg_ Daddy to fly it in for me, since it's a limited edition," the blonde replied, cradling an extravagant, white handbag.

'_It's__** just**__ a bag…'_ Elena Gilbert thought, rolling her eyes. She sat hunched at her desk, her head bent down and her chocolate brown hair cascading around her face. It was just the first day back at school but she already felt suffocated by the shallowness, snobbishness and the _huge_ egos.

The Falls Academy, one of the most exclusive private high schools in the States, was a school for the rich. Of that much, she was sure. Every student had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

_Every_ student, that is, except for her. Since her parents' death a few months back, she and her younger brother, Jeremy, had moved into the quaint three-bedroom apartment of their aunt, Jenna. Unlike her schoolmates' parents, who were big shot lawyers and world-class medical experts, Aunt Jenna was a struggling writer. So, unlike her schoolmates, she wasn't exactly high society.

Elena fiddled with a loose thread on her pleated, black school skirt as she stared at the piece of paper in front of her. '_Evaluation on Summer Educational Travel' _She bit her lip.

She wasn't filthy rich, but she _was_ smart and she worked hard. She'd gotten into the school on a scholarship, a free ride for all four years of high school. And as if the prestige of attending The Falls didn't _already_ do it for her, her parents' words of encouragement sure did.

* * *

><p>"<em>Your father and I are so proud of you, Elena." Miranda Gilbert said, her eyes shining with tears. Elena smiled back at her and watched her mom pass the acceptance letter to her dad.<em>

_Grayson Gilbert mirrored the smile on his daughter's face. "I've heard so much about how great this school is, sweetie. You've worked so hard and it's paid off." He took his daughters hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You're destined to do great things, Elena. You'll do great here."_

_For a split second, Elena's smile faltered. She liked public school and she didn't like the idea of leaving her friends at all. Then Jeremy, who was a sixth grader at the time, came bounding down the stairs. And what her little brother said next justified her decision._

"_Woah, that's seriously every-single-person-in-the-world's dream school! Can't believe my big sis is gonna go to school at The Falls," Jeremy said, his arms folded on the banister, a faraway look in his eyes. "Do the best you can, okay 'Lena!"_

* * *

><p>Back then, she had been entirely convinced the scholarship was an opportunity she couldn't afford to pass up on, so she had grabbed it without looking back. Now, she wasn't so sure.<p>

'_Summer Educational Travel?'_ She had absolutely nothing to write on that piece of paper.

Luckily, an ear-splitting yell from the hall turned everyone's head.

"The red notice! A junior, Luka Martin! He just got the red notice!"

As soon as the words "class" and "dismissed" fell from Mr. Tanner's lips, everyone (Mr. Tanner included) bolted for the door. Elena sighed and stood up.

"Saved by the bell," she muttered to herself. "How cliché."

She leaned on the intricate door frame and watched the students spill out of classrooms and head for the lunch hall. This, here, was exactly what made The Falls different from most schools, from any school. _This _was what made Elena hate these people with her entire being.

'_If I can just keep my head down and get through two more years unnoticed,"_ she thought to herself. _'Easy…'_ but her integrity was completely intact and she had this knack to stand up for what was right. And _that _made it difficult.

But for now, Elena had no choice but to follow the crowd. But a lean brunette, whose gaze seemed glued to the plush red carpet, caught her eye. She looked hopelessly lost and confused and she reminded Elena a little too much of herself.

"I haven't seen you around here before, you must be new. I'm Elena Gilbert." She gave the girl a small smile.

The girl looked up, relieved that someone was actually speaking to her. It wouldn't have taken her long to realize this school was filled to the brim with snobs.

"I'm a third-year transfer student," she said sheepishly, "Katherine Pierce."

"Hey, I'm a Junior too… Wait, Pierce? As in the Pierce Oil Industries?"

She gave a small nod and played with her feet.

'_Another multi-millionaire,' _Elena thought._ 'At least she looks more modest than the pretentious douche bags around here.'_

"Uh, what's going on? And what's a red notice?" Katherine asked, looking around.

'_Modest but clueless.'_

Elena let out a breath. "A red notice is a length of red ribbon taped to the inside of a locker; it's a declaration of war. See, there are four boys that control this school, literally. They're called 'The Archetypes' and if you get in their way, you get a red notice. That's all it takes for everyone at this school to go after you."

"No way, how can no one, not even the teachers, retaliate?" Katherine asked, despite knowing deep down that she, herself, would never have the courage to do so.

The two made their way down the grand staircase, Elena leading them to the banquet hall. "They're the sons and heirs to some of the wealthiest families in the world. Everyone here has power, but they're pretty much omnipotent. Their parents practically paid for this school so they're promised free and total reign."

"They must at least be likable, right? Everyone sure seems to like them." Katherine said meekly, tucking her perfectly curled locks behind her ear.

Elena shrugged. "They do what they want, when they want. I guess people here are just drawn to that like moths to a flame. Not once have I seen them wearing the uniform," she said, straightening her navy blazer.

She pushed the doors to the banquet hall and Katherine's eyes widened. It looked more like a concert audience than a student body to her. "And they _always_ make an entrance."

The Archetypes strode through the banquet hall, the crowd parting like the red sea to let them pass. The banquet hall, like the most of the school, was tailored specifically for them. A small, elegant staircase led to a permanently reserved _second_ floor, for The Archetypes, and _only_ The Archetypes, to have their meals. And as if _that_ wasn't superiority at its best, at the middle of the banquet hall was a low platform on which four eccentric chairs were neatly arranged.

"The one in the football jersey's Tyler Lockwood. His family can be described in one word: politics. His dad's about a step away from becoming president and there are rumors that his uncle, Mason, is _the_ boss of the underground world. He's the worst type of player, the type that gets a girl to fall head-over-heels for him then dumps her as soon as she does. You'd best be careful around him," Elena continued without missing a beat.

"The one to his right is Alaric Saltzman. He was in the Time Magazine issue, 'Witty Under Twenty. He's a freaking genius but he's completely off the leash at parties and barely ever in class. His audacity knows no bounds whatsoever but it doesn't matter, he's _still _guaranteed to get into an Ivy League college."

Katherine gaze went from each senior as Elena described them. She didn't seem to have a problem keeping up. When the boys walked passed them, Katherine caught the quick look the guy in white gave Elena. Elena caught it too and she tucked her hair behind her ear. It was something she did whenever she was at a loss for words.

Her voice softened, "That one in white, he's Stefan Salvatore, he's the only Archetype who's in our year. He's the mysterious one. He likes to lay low, a man of few words. Mostly, I see him reading old, leather bound books around campus." Of the four, Elena had the most respect for Stefan. To her, he just seemed _different._

"Then there's the infamous Damon Salvatore," Elena spat out. She heard the spite crawl back into her own voice but she couldn't help herself, she _hated_ the guy.

'_How could someone who was deprived of nothing be the way that he was?'_ she often wondered.

"Damon is Stefan's older brother. He's the heir to the famous Salvatore Worldwide Financial group. He's the leader of The Archetypes and the embodiment of the word: autocrat. He's the typical rebel. In my opinion, he's the merciless King of the Douches."

Katherine's gaze fell on Damon and she couldn't look away. He had that effect on people. "Oh, he can't be _that_ bad," she said, her eyes drinking in the black-clad Adonis. His jet-black hair was perfectly tousled and the only color he sported was the cold, steel blue of his eyes.

Even Elena, who cursed her own heart for skipping a beat when he smirked in her direction, was not immune to his charms. She crossed her arms defiantly.

Once The Archetypes were comfortably seated, Elena nudged Katherine. "Watch this," she instructed.

Luka Martin, the one unfortunate enough to cross paths with Damon Salvatore, thus earning a red notice, was shoved forcibly out of the crowd and towards The Archetypes. He stood stooped in a clearing in front of The Archetypes' platform. He was a shaking, snivelling mess.

Elena felt sick to her stomach, partly because she pitied Luka but mostly because of the mass of students that just cheered the whole thing on.

Damon glared at Luka, his legs crossed and his eyes piercing.

"Luka, buddy! I heard this really _hilarious_ term yesterday, 'yuppie scum'," Damon chuckled lightly and rested his elbows on his knees. Luka trembled.

"Did you know it means 'rich trash'? Oh riiiight, you do. Cause 'yuppie scum' was the term _you_ used to describe _me_ yesterday. Right, Luka?" Damon's smile disappeared completely and his jaw tightened.

"Let's get this over with," he said monotonously.

He stood up, shrugged off his leather jacket and cracked his knuckles. He walked towards Luka, his classic black Oxfords clacking on the wooden floorboards with each step.

To Elena's surprise, after Damon threw the first punch, Stefan got up wordlessly and with a yawn, left the banquet hall. A small smile formed on her lips but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

A few mean left hooks and an uppercut later, Luka had a busted lip, a few broken ribs, and was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. He hadn't even attempted to defend himself. The crowd went wild with rounds of accolades and applause.

"That was great, Damon!" a freshman at his side hollered. Damon turned to him and sent a fist to his gut.

Katherine gasped. Elena wasn't surprised.

"I hate suck-ups," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "C'mon guys, I've wasted enough of my time on this crap."

Elena's hands were balled so tightly into fists; her knuckles were turning a ghostly white. She took a step towards Damon, intent on giving him a piece of her mind, but Katherine grabbed her arm.

"Elena!" she whispered, "_You _told me what would happen if you got in their way."

A moment passed and Elena huffed in defeat. She bit her tongue to keep from incessantly screaming the insults that were running through her mind at _the_ Damon Salvatore.

Hours later, Elena sat alone on the ledge of the fire escape. She liked the seclusion and the freedom from the scrutiny. She shrugged the shiny, black penny loafers off her feet and stretched her toes through the warm wool of her knee-high socks. Resting her chin on her left knee, she dangled her right foot over the ledge.

With a sigh, she buried her face in her hands. Her mother always told her to "never be a spectator to unfairness or stupidity," and she was disappointed in herself for being a tight-lipped witness to the bullying and tyranny, for losing the backbone she was always so proud of, and for being what she hated more than Damon Salvatore himself, a coward.

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or (the inspiration for this story) the Japanese drama, "Hana Yori Dango"<em>

A/N: If you were wondering: **'Archetype'** means 'the original; a perfect or typical specimen' and an **'Autocrat'** is 'someone who insists on complete obedience from others; an imperious or domineering person'. Yup, I know Katherine's really timid and she seems out of character now but, who knows? That might change! Stay tuned! :-)_  
><em>

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	2. TOPSY TURVY IN JUST ONE HOUR

**CHAPTER 2 - TOPSY TURVY IN JUST ONE HOUR**

Elena pulled at her charcoal trench as she walked home that day, the chilly afternoon air made her breath come out in small puffs. She stared at the pavement as she walked from block to block, her nondescript messenger bag swaying from her shoulder.

"I'm home," Elena called as she pulled the red striped scarf from her neck and draped it carefully on the shelf hook.

Jenna looked up from her laptop and craned her neck. "How was the first day?" she called out to Elena with a smile.

"Great," Elena replied, plopping down next to her aunt on the moth-eaten sofa. She lacked the heart to tell her just how much she detested the place.

"That's always good to hear," Jenna said, patting her leg. "These _are _the best four years of your life, after all."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Elena said with a small sigh.

The shrill peal of the phone pierced the silence. Jenna picked it up mid-ring and chuckled. "Elena, it's Caroline… again."

"I'll take it in my room!"

She grabbed the receiver and belly-flopped onto her bed. "Hey, Care!"

"Leeeeenaaaa! Ugh, I know it's already been, like, three years since you moved but it's still weird as heck not seeing you on the first day of school! Anyways, did you know that Matt is a _total _hunk now! He gained like twenty pounds of muscle weight over summer…"

Elena smiled. Her bestie's nonstop chatter never failed to cheer her up.

"So, how was your first day at the crux of teen royalty?" Caroline asked, her bubbly voice leaking through the phone.

"Red notice. Luka Martin."

Caroline whistled. "On the _very_ first day back? Gosh, _someone_ must've been PO-ed pretty bad," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Yup. Apparently, he was trash talking The Tore and The Tore, being… well… The Tore, got him back for it."

'_The Tore'_ was the name by which Elena and Caroline referred to Damon Salvatore. The name fit him to a tee because of two reasons, 1) his renowned surname, Salva_tore_ and 2) the way he _tore_ people to pieces.

Elena laughed effortlessly as Caroline narrated her summer escapades and updated her on everyone she'd left behind. "Vicki got her braces off and Sarah chopped off _all_ her hair!"

"Jeez, I miss you, Care!"

"Well, we can't _all_ be diehard scholastic geniuses."

Elena could practically hear Caroline grinning through the phone.

"ELENAAA, DIIIIIINNER!" Jeremy hollered.

"And _that's _my cue."

"Promise to call me the second anything juicy happens?"

"I've got you on speed dial, you loon!" Elena replied with a laugh.

"Love you too! A-buh-bye!"

* * *

><p>Elena sat alone at the long, wooden table as she did every day. With their noses so high up in the air, most students hardly ever noticed she was there. If they weren't belittling her or making fun of her "bargain-basement" shoes, they were ignoring her.<p>

Safe to say, no one bothered to sit with her at lunch, but Elena was fine with that. If they didn't give her the respect she deserved, _they_ didn't deserve her time of day… At least that's what she told herself to get through that arduous hour each day.

She watched the silver trays of Fettuccine Alfredo, Sirloin Steak and Triple-Tiered Chocolate Cake a la mode pass her. In complete honesty, Elena wasn't nearly as jealous of her schoolmates as she was of the food they could afford.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and emptied her brown paper bag. _'Tuna sandwich and apple wedges… better than nothing.'_ She was about to take a bite of the soaked bread when she caught the exchange by the entrance to the banquet hall.

Katherine stood there, stuttering incoherently, her gaze fixed on her tray of food. And Ben McKittrick stood in front of her, his arms extended to block her way.

"Do I know you?" he asked, cockily. He looked her up and down and ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

Katherine shook her head, she _clearly_ looked uncomfortable.

"Well anyway, me and my buddies over there want you to join us for lunch," he said, motioning to a table of brawny guys, they looked as if they had inexplicable amounts of gel in their hair and every single one of their collars was popped.

"But… uh… I don't…" she stammered.

"Just c'mon," Ben said rolling his eyes and grabbing her arm.

Katherine blinked furiously, taken aback by his brashness.

Elena _needed_ to intervene. "Katherine!" she called out from across the banquet hall. She motioned for Katherine to sit, "_We're _having lunch today, remember?"

Katherine let out a breath of relief and yanked her arm out of Ben's grasp.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she whispered, taking the seat across from Elena. She took one glance at her paper bag lunch and grimaced.

"_What_… is that?"

Elena looked at her own meal then at Katherine's. "I'm sorry we can't all have Lobster Ravioli all'arrabbiata!" She raised an eyebrow, "And have you seriously never tried apple wedges _a la peanut butter _before?"

Elena passed a wedge to Katherine, whose eyes widened with the first bite. "Mmmm!"

Elena gave an amused chuckle. "Your fancy, gourmet-accustomed taste buds don't know what they're missing."

Katherine grabbed her tray and shot up from the table. "What am I doing eating _this_ stuff when I can be eating that!"

She whirled around quickly, so intent on getting to the fresh fruit table that she bumped… no, _collided_ with a hard male chest, sending tomato sauce flying in every direction.

Elena froze, agape, watching the scene unfold before her in slow motion.

'_Please, please, please let it be __**anyone**__ but-' Elena prayed._

Katherine's hands flew to her mouth. "I am _so_ sor-," she managed to choke out before her throat completely closed up, realizing just _who _she had bumped into.

_Every. single. person. _in the banquet hall fell silent.

'_Of. course. She was never that lucky.'_

Damon let out a long breath. He was _not_ in the mood for this _today_. His gaze went from the petrified girl in front of him to the gigantic red splotch on his immaculate _white_ Oxford shirt.

"I-I'll pay for the… cleaning costs." she murmured.

His lip curled in blatant disgust. "Cleaning… costs?" he growled. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

He forcefully undid his skinny, black tie and threw it on the floor. Then he all but _tore_ off his shirt, leaving his upper body clad in nothing but a black wife beater. He threw the soiled shirt at Katherine. She whimpered.

"C'mon, Damon," Tyler chided, strutting over to Katherine. "No need to hurt such a _pretty _girl," he cooed, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. Alaric guffawed and slapped Tyler upside the head.

Damon stared Katherine down with the intensity of his blue eyes. Elena thought Katherine might just have died of frost bite.

"Do you care about the economy?" He asked Katherine, crossing his arms. "I am the _future_ of Salvatore Worldwide Financial. Do you know what would happen to the economy if I got pneumonia, and _died_?" he whispered into her ear, his voice like velvet.

"Do you?" he leaned towards her until her face was inches from his. She was on the brink of tears.

"I asked you a _question_!" he roared at her.

"STOP!"

Elena couldn't believe the word had tumbled from her very own lips.

"Please. She… didn't mean to. It was an accident." she said, her head down.

Damon slowly turned his head in her direction. _'__**What **__had she just said to him?'_

He straightened his back. Elena could hear the _clack, clack, clack _of his Oxfords getting closer. About a million scenarios played out in her mind, and she expected the worst. But all he did was circle her. Then he left.

She exhaled and loosened her shoulders. The moment she looked up, the confusion evident in her big, brown eyes; she swore she saw the ghost of a smile on Stefan's lips.

* * *

><p>AN: Poor Katherine, she just wanted some apples a la peanut butter! Oooh, Elena stood up to 'The Tore', I bet you guys know what Elena has coming to her now! :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	3. A STRONG WILLED GIRL

**CHAPTER 3 - A STRONG-WILLED GIRL**

'_Stupid, stupid, stupid.'_ Elena thought as she pressed her forehead to the cool metal of her locker. _'What the hell happened to keeping your head down and getting through two more years unnoticed?'_

She flattened her palms against the lockers and pushed herself off the shiny surface. Steadying herself, she gave herself a mental slap. _'Come on, Elena. It's irrational to be afraid of opening your __**own**__ locker.'_

She hesitantly entered her combination and with every turn of the lock, her heart beat a little faster.

She had tried, _so_ hard not to, but in the end, she'd still fallen into their game. Because hanging inside her locker was an ominous piece of glossy, _red_ ribbon.

"ELENA GILBERT JUST GOT THE RED NOTICE!"

* * *

><p>"Let's run the bitch outta here <em>today<em>," Alaric said in a bored tone, not even bothering to look up from his crossword.

Tyler pointed his fork at Alaric, his cheeks filled with food. "Wouldn't this be the first time a _girl's_ gotten a red notice?"

Alaric shrugged and glanced at Damon, who had the smuggest smirk on his face.

"Well, I don't give a crap… and this is a good thing," Damon said, raising an eyebrow. "I was getting _awfully_ bored."

Stefan took a sip of his coffee and shook his head.

* * *

><p>With every single person in the hall shoving her, simply making her way to her classroom was a feat for Elena.<p>

She gave an exasperated sigh as she caught her balance, resting against the door frame. She could hear her classmates snickering and she could feel all their eyes following her as she made her way to her desk.

'…_wait a minute, where __**is**__ my desk?'_

"Crap."

Elena made her way swiftly down the steps in pursuit of her stolen desk, only to find it out in the courtyard, in pieces. She muttered a string of curses and walked over to the heap of wood.

Before she knew it, fits of hooting laughter erupted from a second story window and she was doused, head to toe, with freezing water and rotten vegetables.

Elena shivered in the cold. She turned her head from side to side, for someone, _anyone_ that was willing to help her.

She saw Katherine, and Katherine saw her.

"K-Katherine."

Katherine stopped cold in her tracks, averted her gaze and scurried away from the courtyard.

Elena could _not_ believe it, so she ran, all the way to the fire escape. The tears were dangerously close to falling but she'd never give _them_ the satisfaction of seeing her cry. So instead, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAAAAAAAAAAA-."

"Please stop."

Elena whirled around. Her heart lurched in her chest and her mouth went dry.

Stefan looked up from the bottom of the staircase, his lustrous, caramel faux hawk contrasting against the clothes he donned, a spotless white sweater vest over a spotless white polo.

_Meanwhile_, Elena's hair was still dripping wet and she reeked of rotten cabbage.

"Can you _please _stop the screaming?" his said listlessly, running his fingertips over the leather binding of the book he held. "I'm sorry but this fire escape is _my_ escape and I don't want to be disturbed, not here."

Elena took a moment to let his words sink in. _'No sign of sympathy, no form of compassion whatsoever.'_ Her heart fell as she let out a stifled breath.

Stefan blinked once and turned away from her. But before he walked away, he spoke.

"I know… that this is hard for you. But try not to give up."

Elena could do nothing but stare at his retreating figure. She was right about him, he _was _different.

Walking home that day, she couldn't help the smile that curved her lips. She clung onto Stefan's words as if it were all that was keeping her afloat. Hell, she even had a little more pep in her step, and she noticed that.

But so did _someone_ else.

Damon watched Elena pensively from the concealment of his tinted stretch limo. He watched her look to her right then to her left, despite the street being nearly empty. He watched her cross the pedestrian lane, her hair fluttering softly behind her and the most innocent of smiles gracing her features. Then he thought, _'Why __**the hell**__ wasn't this girl giving up.'_

* * *

><p>Elena cringed, distancing the phone away from her ear. Caroline's shriek was probably doing a number on her eardrums.<p>

"I'm scared _for _you, Lena. I think you should transfer schools…"

Elena buried her face into her pillow. "No way," she replied with a groan. "That's exactly what The Archetypes want and I will _not_ let them win."

Caroline sighed. "You know he won't stop."

"Well then, neither will I."

* * *

><p>'<em>Neither will I,' <em>Elena repeated to herself as she stood her ground in front of The Archetypes' banquet hall platform. She tightened her grip on the broom she held, her only defense against the bags of flour being thrown at her from every direction. She wouldn't give up.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Katherine covered in flour, sobbing into her hands. She didn't know _why_ she still felt the need to defend the "friend" who had turned her back on her, but she did.

Elena shot daggers at Damon and yelled at him through gritted teeth. "What the hell? **I'm** who you should be targeting, not her."

"Get off your high horse, pauper." Alaric shot back at her.

Damon crossed his legs. "Targeting you is _exactly _what I'm doing," he replied thickly.

The crowd roared in agreement. "If you had just quit this school, this would all be over!" one boy screamed. "Yeah, you good-for-nothing!" another yelled, hurling a bottle of soy sauce at Elena. She swung at it, and then a chorus of gasps enveloped the room.

Damon's priceless white chisel-toe shoe was now covered in soy sauce.

He took one look at his soiled shoe then stared hard at Elena. _'God, if looks could kill…' _she thought.

The crowd went crazy, screaming names and insults and pummelling her with flour.

And for a second, Damon's eyes softened. He shot out of his chair, "STOP."

You could've heard a pin drop. "That's enough." He took two steps towards her and extended his foot.

"Lick it off," he ordered, monotonously.

It took all of his will power not to lash out at her when she glared at him as if he'd was downright stupid.

"Lick. it. off." he repeated. "…and I'll call this whole game off."

Elena turned her head towards Katherine once more, she'd never seen a human being look so… _fragile_. _'I'd never give up,' _she thought, _'but __**she**__ can't take any more of this…'_

So with a small sigh, Elena knelt down.

Damon felt something stir within him; he convinced himself it was pity. Alaric and Tyler leaned forward in their seats and as she was inches from Damon's shoe, a disembodied voice echoed through the room.

"6 hours, Elena."

The crowd parted to reveal Stefan, casually leaning on a pillar. "The time difference from here and Paris is 6 hours," he said to Elena.

Her brows furrowed, she was completely taken aback by the statement. _'Why was he telling me this?'_

Damon looked from Elena to Stefan and gave a huff of annoyance. "Forget it," he muttered, storming out of the banquet hall. Alaric and Tyler followed close behind him.

Stefan offered her a small smile, stuffed his hands in his pockets then trailed after the pack.

And just like that, it was over. Elena stood up, tucked her hair behind her ear and extended a hand to Katherine, who took it with wide eyes and a guilt-laced whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Elena."

* * *

><p>AN: So, speaking of _Paris_... have you guys seen the photos of **Nian** in Paris? So adorable, I think I just died!

Btw, thanks so much for all the great reviews and words of encouragement! This only being my 2nd TVD fanfic, the reviews really inspire me to write more. :-)

I kind of want to apologize for the massive amounts of Stelena in here. I know you guys clicked on this story for some _Damon S. + Elena G._ but I'm pulling a Julie Plec so for now, there can only be hints of Delena. _Though_ for the next chapter... :-)_  
><em>

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	4. A KISS WITH A FIST IS BETTER THAN NONE

**CHAPTER 4 - A KISS WITH A FIST IS BETTER THAN NONE**

The night sky was pitch black but the soft, orange glow of the street lamps cast enough light to outline Stefan's contemplative figure. He stood against a tree in the desolate town square, a wistful glint in his green eyes.

He pushed his right sleeve up, glanced down at his white gold Rolex and smiled. He was counting down the hours 'til _she_ arrived.

He bit his bottom lip and looked up at the massive billboard that stood in the town square.

_**Alexia Branson, the enchanting new face of Cover Girl Cosmetics**_

A smile played on his lips once more.

"6 hours," he breathed.

* * *

><p>Elena spent a <em>long <em>time in the shower that night, scrubbing and _thinking_. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn't get rid of the faint trace of rotten cabbage that remained on her skin. And no matter how hard she thought about it, she just couldn't make sense of Stefan's words.

'_6 hours… Paris? What was that supposed to mean?'_

Frustrated, she simply opted to forget the day's events altogether.

Elena collapsed on the simple, wooden dining chair. Waiting for Aunt Jenna to finish cooking her trademark Mac and Cheese, she began to sort through the mail. Elena scowled at an urgent-looking envelope and tore it open.

"Aunt Jenna, there's a letter here from Jeremy's school… a final notice for his tuition?"

Jenna whirled around, her apron covered in cheesy stains. She pointed the wooden spoon at Elena.

"I'm paying that…" she sighed, "Once my next freelance piece goes through."

Elena's heart fell. "Aunt Jenna, I could get part-time job… I could help."

"No, Elena. Your parents wouldn't want that. They would want you to focus on your studies. I just… I need to work harder." she gave Elena a lopsided smile and turned back to the stove.

Elena's forehead creased. Jenna was sacrificing so much, just so she could attend the hell-hole that was The Falls Academy. It made her sick to her stomach.

"I'm not hungry," she muttered, heading to her room.

Jenna looked up from the mess of Mac and Cheese and sighed.

Elena tossed, then turned, then stared at the bright, green digits on her alarm clock. It was already past midnight but sleep still eluded her. Moreover, the sound of _clanging_ sent her jumping out of bed and peering through the crack of her door.

"Shhh, Jeremy!" Jenna whispered, slapping the boy on the arm.

"Sorry, I can't see a _thing_!" Jeremy replied in low voice.

"You sure this is her favorite?"

"Yup, she loves lobster. She eats it like a man."

Elena smiled.

"Nooo, give _her _more. It's okay with me."

"Okay, okay, Jer. I really hope this'll cheer her up. There's a lot of pressure on her right now." Jenna said softly, carefully arranging the food in a paper bag. Jeremy nodded.

Elena softly shut her door and climbed back into bed. Just the sight of Jenna, her light auburn hair in a messy bun, and Jeremy, in the faded Star Wars shirt he always slept in, showing how much they cared for her lulled her right into a sweet sleep, leaving her wondering what she did to deserve a family as great as hers.

* * *

><p>Elena's eyes lit up at the sight of the butter-sauce coated lobster in front of her. In that one moment, just she felt so… <em>blessed<em>, that she pushed both Katherine _and _Stefan's absences from her mind. She was grinning from ear to ear as she held her utensils in each hand and took a second to thank a higher power for the food.

That second was all it took for _another_ equally omnipotent higher power, to appear in front of her. He looked smart, the sleeves of his black blazer pushed up, but he was seething, his grip of the sides of the table, unrelenting.

He simply did _not _understand how she could still have the courage to smile. He didn't understand it one bit.

Damon looked down at her meal and laughed.

"I didn't know middle-class hags could cook this well," he said coldly, grabbing the Tupperware. "Look who's desperate to fit in now."

And with a flick of his wrist, he slammed it to the ground. Her food was sent skidding across the linoleum.

She couldn't move. She stared at the lobster, now lying on the floor, the food she'd witnessed her aunt and brother preparing in the dead of night, just for her.

Damon followed her gaze and with a ground-quivering stomp, left the lobster crushed under the sole of his shoe.

As per usual, everyone watched wordlessly.

"Let's go, guys." Damon called out to Tyler and Alaric.

"Where we goin'?" Tyler asked, raising a brow.

"Out," Damon smirked. "I need to buy a new pair of shoes."

Elena snapped.

"Stop."

Damon chuckled. "Huh? What did you say?" he mocked with a tilt of his head.

"I don't know if you're spoiled or just stupid," Elena spat, her eyes _ablaze_. "But you're a complete _ass _who has never earned a _cent _on his own."

"YOU ARE SO FULL OF IT!" she yelled.

And Damon barely had time to react, before she sent her fist straight to his jaw.

He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. He looked up at her, completely dumbstruck.

"I'm never going to give up" was the last thing she said before she walked past him and out the banquet hall doors, the crowd parting like the red sea to let her pass.

* * *

><p>Elena woke up the next day, buttoned her shirt, fastened her skirt and donned her navy blazer. When she looked into the mirror, she no longer saw a delicate, spineless little girl. She saw Elena.<p>

She stepped out into the fresh morning air in high spirits. Nothing could faze her today.

… Nothing but the burly man in a black suit and aviators that grabbed her or the _other _burly man in a black suit and aviators that covered her mouth with a chloroform-laced cloth.

The last thing Elena saw before she completely lost consciousness was person that sat cross-legged in the foreboding black car she was shoved into. She'd know those piercing, steel-blue eyes and that distinctive smirk _anywhere_.

'_A one Damon Salvatore.'_

* * *

><p>AN: This chapter's a bit short but I wanted to update quick! I bet you guys were scratching your heads with Stefan's _'6 hours'_ comment, haha! What do you guys think of me bringing in some Stefan S. + Lexi B. in Chapter 5?

On _another _note... OMG, ELENA'S BEEN KIDNAPPED!

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	5. A SMILE IS PRICELESS

**CHAPTER 5 - A SMILE IS PRICELESS**

Elena knew she was slowly beginning to regain consciousness when she began to feel the dull throbbing in her head. Her mouth was bone-dry and her neck was a bit stiff, but she felt strangely _comfortable_. She opened her eyes a fraction of an inch and realized why. She was settled cozily in a luxurious leather wing-back chair under a dimly lit chandelier.

Her hand flew up to her forehead in obvious confusion, only to be further bewildered by her _perfectly_ manicured fingernails. _'What the… French Tips?'_

She sat up with a jolt, trying to remember exactly what had happened before she blacked out. But all thinking completely ceased when she looked up and saw a flawlessly beautiful woman in front of her. It took her a just second longer to realize that she was looking into a full-length mirror, and that the woman was _her._

She drifted towards the mirror in a trance-like state. She had never, in her _entire_ life, been gussied up like _this_. She was in a black, knee-length evening dress, an elegant combination of lace and tiny pleats that flowed as she moved. Her long legs were accentuated by the black suede pumps on her feet, and she was decked, head-to-toe, in jewelry.

She had to reach her hand out to touch the glass just to make sure it was all real. _Oh, it was._ She had the same brown doe eyes under the smokey gold eyeshadow and the same stubborn pout beneath the "Lustrous Pink" lipstick.

'_I'm dreaming…' _she whispered to herself.

"Not exactly," a velvety voice spoke.

Elena spun around, her soft, loose curls bouncing. Damon stood at the back of the room, his back towards her and his hands in his pockets.

"You! What is this?" she flared.

"You said you'd never give up. Well, I know what you want so I'm _persuading_ you to give up."

"W-what?" she stammered lightly.

He turned towards her, his eyes smoldered with his intense gaze. "One million dollars."

Her eyes widened.

"I spent a million dollars on _you_," he repeated. "The spa treatment, hair, make-up. That dress is the _only_ one of its kind, Miuccia Prada is a good friend of mine. The diamond necklace, the white gold bracelet, that ring."

With every word, he took a step closer to her. Elena cleared her throat, hoping he wouldn't notice the shiver that ran through her body at the proximity. He stopped when his lips were inches from her ear.

"The total comes down to a million bucks."

She stumbled backwards at his words. "No way," Elena said, out of breath. She paced the room, trying to focus on taking deep, even breaths. Her mind was racing, thinking of the things her family could afford with all that money.

'_Jenna would finally be able to publish her book! Jeremy would be financially set 'til college!'_

"So you did this with intentions of pushing me into debt?"

"No," Damon responded flatly. "The cost doesn't matter to _me_. Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you." He smirked at her, already acknowledging his victory. "Just give up."

Elena scoffed. "What makes you think I would even _want _these things?"

"Well, you could've fooled me," he said, crossing his arms. "Why did you look so… _fascinated_ then?"

She looked down and he waggled his eyebrows at her lack of response. "That's just how people's hearts _are_, Elena."

Her head shot up. It was the first time he _ever _called her by name.

"They can be easily swayed by the power of wealth. It doesn't surprise me that you would fall into that norm, considering your… circumstances." He rolled his eyes languidly.

"Smile, Elena. I know you're ecstatic that such a transformation's even possible. I basically turned a frog into a princess." he said smugly. "So, smile."

"Are you stupid?" she asked, her eyes narrowing to slits. "How the hell can someone smile when she's so… so disgusted by the likes of you?"

She took a step closer to him, looking him straight in the eye to make sure he knew she meant every single word she spoke.

"Who are _you _to go talking about people's hearts when you don't seem to have one yourself? You can't _buy_ everything in this world with money, Damon. _Especially_ not _**me**_. So don't treat me like _that_ kind of girl."

And with a petulant huff, she ran out of the room, leaving an incredulous Damon with his mouth agape.

Elena kicked off her heels and threw the jewelry on the floor in her rage. She ran the halls barefoot as she tried to decipher the maze that was the Salvatore Mansion.

'_The nerve of that guy!'_ She shook her head, repulsed at his request to smile _for him_.

She ran down flights of stairs until she was out of breath. "Finally," she muttered, grabbing her uniform from a rack by the foyer. The moment she ducked into the nearest room to change, the grand front doors swung open and in strode Giuseppe Salvatore in a crisp, gray suit, flanked by his entourage of personal assistants and body guards.

As soon as Elena got her uniform on, she bolted out the manor doors, completely _and luckily_ unaware she'd missed _the _Giuseppe Salvatore's entrance. She walked speedily through the front courtyard, past fountains, statues and perfectly trimmed hedges. She tried to get a hold of herself by focusing on the rhythmic tap of her loafers against the concrete.

Damon stood by his window. _'So this is what rejection feels like.'_ That was the first of a million thoughts flooded his mind, watching her walk away. _'Why is she __**so**__ stubborn?' _was the next.

But no matter what he thought about her, he couldn't get the perfect image of her in that _stunning_, black number out of his mind. It was right there, next to what she had said to him, the words that stung as much as a slap to the face.

"Oh, _you're_ here." Giuseppe said in a cold, detached voice.

Damon turned to him with a scoff. "So, after 6 months of not seeing your son, this is the kind of greeting he gets."

Giuseppe glared at him. "Where's your brother?"

Damon returned the glare. "Still mollycoddling the boy, I see." he said spitefully.

He watched his father walk away, shaking his head. Sure, _rejection_ was new to him but as for _disappointment_, he knew it all too well.

Elena came to a halt at the very edge of their property and turned around. In reality, it looked more like a castle than a mansion. She tucked a hair behind her ear.

'_It may actually be a bad idea to make enemies with such people.'_

* * *

><p>Damon, Tyler and Alaric lounged in Damon's den, playing Poker, each of them nursing a glass of Scotch.<p>

"Read 'em and weep," Ric said smugly, clawing the chips on the table towards him.

Damon groaned and slapped his cards down.

"Hmm, you're pissed. Did that Gilbert girl do something again?" Tyler asked raising a brow.

"Just shut up and play," Damon said dismissively.

"Just sayin'," Tyler added. "I've never seen a girl like that before. It's like nothing can faze her."

Ric nodded in agreement. "She's poor, but she's strong. It makes bullying her pretty damn fun."

"I quit," Damon said, swirling the golden liquid around in its glass. "I need to blow off some steam."

Tyler and Ric watched Damon get up, grab his keys and go. They exchanged a glance.

"Where's Stefan, by the way?"

"He's not coming; all he's got on his mind is Lexi's arrival."

"That guy... seems like he can't sit still when it comes to her."

* * *

><p>"Elena, wait!" Katherine called, trying to match Elena's stride down the cobble road.<p>

"They'll just go right back to bullying you if they see you walking with me." Elena said matter-of-factly.

Katherine nodded sadly. "About that one time, Elena… It was cowardly of me. I should've helped you."

"It's okay, don't worry about it. But I don't think you should approach me at school."

Katherine gave a small nod then stared at her feet dejectedly.

Elena picked up on it. "But if you ever want to talk, just give me a call at home! I don't think they'd go as far as to tap our phones." she said with a smile.

Katherine beamed. "Okay."

Elena looked around; they were at the town square now, just a few more blocks from Jenna's apartment. She glanced up and stared in awe at the massive billboard. "Hey, you know that girl, Alexia Branson, graduated from The Falls?"

Katherine followed her gaze and shook her head. "I didn't."

"Her father's the president of the Salvatore Financial branch in France. She's actually a famous model overseas too, but I know her dream is to be an International Attorney."

"Wow. You know a lot about her," Katherine said, mimicking Elena's look of awe up at the strawberry blonde.

"I'm a fan of hers," Elena sighed. "She gave a speech at my old school once, so she's one of the reasons I decided to go to The Falls. She inspired me."

* * *

><p>Damon leaned against an alley wall by the sleaziest bar in town. He drove all the way to the other side of Mystic Falls, where no one he knew and no one who knew him would <em>see<em> him. Even in the moonlight, amongst the hobos and drunkards, he looked severely out of place in his expensive black waistcoat. No one knew how often he went there to blow off steam. Though, he never went there to_ drink_, like most people thought he did.

As if on cue, three seemingly inebriated men stumbled out of the bar, laughing and belching. They took one look at Damon and laughed harder.

"Didn't know there was a _J. Crew_ nearby." one of them slurred.

"Hey, you!" another called to Damon. "You got a light?"

Damon smirked and pushed his sleeves up. He was going to enjoy this.

"You deaf or something? I asked you if you got a li-"

Damon lost himself in the blind fury, swinging his fists where he saw fit. Mere _minutes_ had passed and his chest rose and fell as he surveyed the three men that lay, beaten and unconscious on the ground.

* * *

><p>AN: Elena's definitely _not _the type of girl money can buy. Damon had to learn _that _the hard way! So... Elena looks up to Lexi, Stefan's got a crush on her, Damon's linked to her _professionally_... I wonder how everyone will react to her arrival in Chapter 6. :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	6. ON THE LONGEST NIGHT

**CHAPTER 6 - ON THE LONGEST NIGHT**

It was a brand new day at The Falls and Elena knew that that meant yet another round of insults, insolence and torment was headed her way. But this was Elena, and she just rolled her shoulders and held her head up high as she walked down the halls.

That is, until people in the hallway began to _smile_ at her. And when a random student who passed by her _spoke_ to her, what she said scared the living daylights out of her.

"Hey, 'Lena! Your hair looks _a-mazing _today!"

Elena's mouth fell open. _'My… hair?' _Her hand flew up to her head. She was _pretty_ sure it was the same, plain hairstyle she had since freshman year.

"Gilbert, hey!"

"You're glowing today, Elena!"

"Are those new shoes?"

Elena's head whipped around frantically from the barrage of compliments left and right.

'_Okay, what new form of hell was this?'_

And when Aimee, Dana and Amber, the three snottiest girls at school, sauntered over to her, she expected to be taunted mercilessly, have her hair pulled or even be slapped across the face. What she completely _wasn't _prepared for, however, was what was said next.

"Honestly, 'Lena! We think Damon went way too far the other day," Aimee said with an exaggerated pout.

Dana nodded, "Yeah, if Stefan hadn't shown up, it would've been the end for you!"

"But you really showed him who's boss with that punch!" Amber squealed, jumping up and down.

"Stop it, Amber!" Aimee hissed, glaring at her friend.

"Sorry.."

Elena remained speechless. She was torn between asking Aimee if she'd hit her head this morning, and just flat out _running_ the hell away from there.

"Anyway," Aimee continued, flashing her a thousand watt smile, "we have a proposition for you."

* * *

><p>"A party?" Caroline shrieked, the excitement evident in her voice.<p>

"Yup, apparently there's a 'welcome-home' party for Alexia Branson. Can you believe it, Care? Alexia Branson in the flesh! And they asked if I could make it." Elena replied, the excitement creeping into her voice as well.

"That's great, Elena! You've never properly hung out with the people from The Falls yet, right? Well, I'm sure if they spend some time with you, they'll get to know you and realize how _fun _you are!"

Elena shifted the receiver to her other ear and worked the kink from her neck.

"I just hope The Archetypes don't show up," she muttered. _'Fat chance of that…'_

"Oh, so what if they do?" Caroline said. "You know your knight -in-shining-_white_-armor will be there to rescue you!"

"Pssh, I can't expect that from him every single time I'm in trouble!"

Caroline groaned. "Just GO, Elena!"

"Okay, okay, Care!" Elena said with a laugh.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god," Jenna gasped, scooping some rice from the bowl and shoving it back into the rice cooker. "If you're going to such a high-class party, I should've cut back on food expenses! Then we could've bought at least <em>one <em>decent gown for you."

"This _is_ your 'Cinderella Story', sis!" Jeremy grinned.

"Quit exaggerating, Jer." Elena rolled her eyes. "And no cutting back on _food_, Aunt Jenna! I heard it's just the casual kind of party… where it's okay to wear jeans."

"But Elena, Prince Charming doesn't fall for the girl in _jeans_," Jeremy said, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Elena narrowed her eyes at him but smirked.

"Then maybe Prince Charming just isn't the guy for me."

* * *

><p>Stefan was <em>antsy.<em> He sat on the uncomfortable airport bench like a statue, with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting on his linked hands. He'd already lost count of how many times he'd glanced at his watch.

Even though he wasn't trying to be, Stefan was aware of what the guys were up to. Alaric, in his double-breasted, gray _Armani_ blazer, was making small-talk with a clearly flustered pilot about _aircraft flight mechanics_. Tyler, the sleeves of his plaid shirt pushed up to his elbows, was working his charm on a beautiful, unsuspecting tourist. And Damon, in his signature fitted black shirt, was slouched a few seats away from him, with his arms crossed and a bored expression on his face.

"She's late," Damon muttered, loud enough for Stefan to hear. "You holding your breath, lil bro?" he asked with a smirk. Damon waited for a reaction but Stefan just looked straight ahead. When he saw his brother's back straighten and something flash in his eyes, Damon took that as a sign that he'd spotted her.

"Lexi," Stefan breathed.

She stepped out from the crowd, effortlessly wheeling her designer bags behind her. She looked around then walked towards them, the fringe of her strawberry blonde hair falling over her eyes and the most dazzling of smiles on her lips. There was always something about her, a certain _air_ that turned people's heads.

"I'm ho-ome!" she chimed in her silvery voice.

Stefan had her in a crushing hug in a split-second; she hadn't been in his arms for the _longest _time.

"I haven't seen you in a while!" she giggled, looking him up and down. "You've grown up so handsomely."

Stefan smiled and took her hand, "I've been _wanting_ to see you, Lex."

"Likewise," she grinned.

Most people knew of The Archetypes but what they didn't know was that their group had been formed long before high school. The four boys went to the same prestigious _preschool_, and it all began from there. _Alexia Branson_ was two years their senior, three Stefan's. Her father worked closely with Giuseppe Salvatore, himself, so as a child she spent a lot of time with the boys, especially Damon and Stefan. She took the role of their big sister, knocking some sense **into** them and bad manners **out** of them. Damon was _always _stubborn, changing his mindset remained a challenge to this very day. But Stefan was a _terror_ child and Lexi was able to fix that. Just somewhere along the way, he'd fallen for her.

Tyler cleared his throat. Ric nudged Tyler.

Stefan's face fell as Lexi pulled away from his grasp, but he composed himself quickly.

It had always been 'Lexi and The Boys' until her freshman year, when she was discovered as a model and whisked off to Paris. Stefan didn't speak to anyone for months afterwards and the couple of times a year Lexi would visit, he'd always be counting the minutes 'til she arrived.

"Welcome home!" Tyler greeted, hugging Lexi.

"How was your flight?" Ric asked, kissing her on both cheeks.

"Good, good! Gosh, I've missed my boys!" She turned towards Damon with a playful smirk.

Damon smirked right back. "It's been a while, Lexi."

She leaned in to hug him, then kept her hands on his shoulders when she pulled back. "Hmm, it seems like there's something different about you…"

Damon rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, when was the last time we all got together? I think I was prepubescent.."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I wonder if something's _happened_?"

"Nothing's happened," Damon waved dismissively.

"Nevertheless, you've become _quite _the lady, Lexi." Ric cut in.

Tyler waggled his brows at her. "Did the French men turn you down?"

"Well, a girl never kisses and tells," she winked. "How 'bout you, Stefan? You got a girlfriend yet?"

Stefan stuffed his hands in his pockets. He knew how he felt about her, but did _she_?

"Not yet."

* * *

><p>"Whoaaaaa," Elena breathed, her eyes roaming over Branson Manor. She walked slowly across the patio that was set aglow by the strings of lights draped across the trees. "It's beautiful."<p>

She was led to the grand ballroom and in the seconds after she entered, she wanted nothing more than to _leave_. Her head spun; all she could see were the men in tuxedos, the women in floor-length gowns and the glamorous glasses of champagne in their hands. And here she was, the very meaning of the word 'self-conscious' in her white blouse, black cardigan and _jeans_.

Needless to say, it didn't take long for the pointing and whispering to start.

"Eleeeena!" Aimee called out, walking over to her. She was in a pastel blue empire gown, her dark locks were done up and embellished with a little tiara. "Aren't you a _bit_ late?" she asked, her voice laced with faux innocence.

Amber and Dana were at her sides, as usual, wearing a pastel pink and a light yellow version of Aimee's dress, and attempting to suppress their giggles.

"What's with the get up?"

"You _do _know there's a dress code you have to abide by."

"But… you guys said jeans were fine!" Elena said, aghast.

Aimee crossed her arms, "No way! It was _obviously_ a joke." The girls laughed and strolled away.

'_Ugh, typical.'_ Elena gritted her teeth and cursed her own gullibility. She grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it all at once, ignoring the odd looks sent her way.

"The Archetypes are here!" someone yelled. And just like what would've happened at The Falls, there was a flurry of gasps, the crowd parted and The Archetypes sauntered through the room. Elena swore it was déjà vu. Though this time, there were just _three _of them. All three donned top-of-the-line custom-made suits and winning smirks.

Damon glanced at her, their eyes met, and for a second, she could swear that she saw his smirk turn into what looked like a sad smile. She shook her head and averted her gaze.

"This is some quick-acting champagne…" she muttered under her breath.

Elena wanted to leave but she didn't want to dishearten Jenna, Jeremy or Caroline by coming home from her first high-society party after one measly hour.

So, she stuffed herself. _'Might as well enjoy this fancy buffet.' _she thought, piling her plate. She carried her food to the poolside table, where there weren't any people and she could binge in peace.

She was never that lucky.

Aimee, Dana and Amber walked over to her with their champagne glasses, whispering and giggling maliciously. Elena exhaled.

"God, Elena! Did you come all the way here just so you could eat the free food? Please, stuff some crab in your pocket for later." The girls erupted into a fit of laughter.

Elena slammed her fork on the table and stood up.

"What did I _ever _do to you three?" she seethed.

"Oh please, stop acting so holier-than-thou!" Dana spat at her.

"We've heard the rumors. You're so desperate to get the red notice revoked that you're trying to seduce The Archetypes. You were seen with Stefan on the fire escape and some people say you even went to the Salvatore Mansion for Damon!" Aimee yelled. "You're shameless!"

By now, people in the ballroom were silently watching the exchange.

"_We _spend time and _money _to be the perfect counterparts for The Archetypes. We're on a totally different level than you are!"

"Go home." Amber said flatly, "You wouldn't want your precious Stefan laughing at you, not that he'd even give a rat's ass about _you_.

Elena felt the vibe in the ballroom _change_ when Lexi descended the staircase, her hair like a flame against her an elegant, midnight-blue trumpet gown. Every woman in the room envied her. Elena envied _her_, because on the bottom stair, Stefan stood with eyes only for _her_. Lexi took Stefan's arm as he escorted her to the ballroom floor, they looked perfect.

"...he already has Ms. Branson," Amber said venomously, shaking Elena out of her stupor.

"Go home, slut." Aimee repeated for the last time.

And with a smug laugh, the three girls toasted their glasses and poured the champagne on Elena's head. She fell to her knees.

'_That's it,'_ Damon thought. He got up from his chair and clenched his jaw. He'd witnessed the entire exchange and thought he could sit idly by and watch it unfold. He thought he'd enjoy it. Well, he thought _wrong._

He began to walk towards Elena. He felt so many things at that moment: anger, pity, confusion, more anger, _regret_, and so many more he couldn't sort out. So, he hesitated.

And all it took was that one second of hesitation for _Stefan_ to swoop in. He knelt beside Elena and offered her his handkerchief.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Lexi came running to the poolside. "What's all the commo- Well, _that's _a strange greeting," she said to the three with a tilt of her head. She crossed her arms.

"Ms. Bransooon!" the three girls squealed, the fear and guilt evident in their voices. "Welcome home! You look beautiful tonight!"

Lexi's lips pressed into a tight smile. "No, let me _sincerely _welcome **you**."

She grabbed a bottle of champagne, shook it, and when she popped the cork off, it _exploded_, evoking shrieks from the trio and causing them to fall into the cold, blue pool water.

Lexi turned towards Elena and offered a small smile.

* * *

><p>Elena sat in Lexi's room, in a cotton robe and fluffy white slippers.<p>

"Um, why did you-" Elena struggled to find the words.

"Stefan," Lexi answered simply. She bit her lip as she went through the rows of dresses in her closet.

"Stefan?" Elena repeated, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"He told me there was this _interesting_ girl. I knew it was you when I saw you."

Elena's held the handkerchief tighter.

"Oh, I have _the perfect_ shoes for this dress!" Lexi ran to her walk-in shoe closet and picked out a pair of diamond-studded silver heels.

Elena's eyes widened. "Those look expensive… I couldn't-"

Lexi smiled and crouched by Elena, "In Paris, there's a saying that goes, 'A good pair of shoes will take you places.'"

With that, she stood up and smoothed her gown. "Dress quickly," she instructed, walking towards the door. "You're going to make one _heck_ of an entrance."

* * *

><p>Elena held her breath. With each step down the stairs, she could hear the gasps and murmurs getting louder and she hoped… no, she <em>prayed<em> that she looked... _appropriate._

At the last step, Stefan stood up and looked at her with a smile so innocent and sweet, it made her melt.

"You look pretty, Elena."

That was when she knew it would be futile to stop the corners of her lips from turning up.

* * *

><p>Damon gulped when he watched her walk down the stairs. He knew he was ogling but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her, everything about <em>her<em> was drawing him in; the way she looked so elegant in the simple, white evening gown; the way her hair flowed in soft waves and the way she'd always tuck it behind her ear; the way her shining, hazel eyes had so much… _warmth_.

She entranced him.

"_You look pretty, Elena." Stefan said._

Damon scoffed inwardly. Saying she was _pretty_ was the understatement of the century. She smelled of mint and vanilla, if anything, she was an _angel_, exceptionally beautiful.

And then she did something. She_ always_ did something to make him snap.

'_She smiled.' _Damon thought,_ 'She smiled for __**Stefan**__.'_

* * *

><p><em>"Are you stupid?" she asked, her eyes narrowing to slits. "How the hell can someone smile when she's so… so disgusted by the likes of you?"<em>

* * *

><p>Damon lost it.<p>

He shot up from his chair and stood in front of Stefan. "Who gave you permission to talk to her? **I** gave her the _red notice_." he said bitingly. If he didn't look so deadly serious, he would've sounded like a petulant child.

Lexi sighed. "Damon, you're being way too harsh. Don't _**you**_ think she's beautiful?" She saw _right_ through him.

Damon shot her a look that said, 'Don't you _dare_ go there.'

"Even though you're _Lexi_, I won't allow you to speak to me that way." he said menacingly.

That's all it took for Stefan lose it too.

"And I won't allow _you_ to speak to _Lexi_ that way either." he said, just _as_ menacingly.

Damon threw the first punch. Stefan stumbled backwards but he didn't go down _that_ easily. Before Damon could manage to throw another, Elena lunged forward with a "No!" in an attempt to restrain him.

It all went by so quickly, Elena wasn't aware of what happened. She wasn't aware that she'd placed her hands on Damon's chest to try and calm him down. She wasn't aware of her back hitting the cold linoleum as they both fell to the ground. She wasn't aware of the sharp intakes of breath around her.

Because all she was aware of was the feeling of Damon's lips, crushed against her own.

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, Damon and Elena _did _just kiss. :-)

This chapter was pretty freaking long but there was _a lot _going on!

Gave 'Lexi and The Boys' some background. Was Lexi HBIC enough? 'Cause she is... the HBIC.

So, I'm actually on summer break right now and my school resumes this coming Wednesday. _I know, it sucks..._ So I'm not sure if I can update as quickly but I will **try**! Stuff that happens in Chapter 7 will probably get Stefan out of the picture for a while. Teehee, hello D/E!

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	7. BE THE FALL OF HIM

**CHAPTER 7 - BE THE FALL OF HIM**

Thank God, Damon Salvatore had a butler. Though Alfred didn't classify as _just_ a butler; he was also Damon's personal assistant, his chauffeur, and his personal _stylist_. The old guy was his first and oldest friend, and with Giuseppe's hectic agenda of climbing up the corporate ladder, it was _Alfred_ that had practically raised Damon.

So, thank God that Alfred already had Damon's outfit for the day: a beige sport coat, a plain black shirt and jeans, neatly pressed and laid out on his bed. Because there was absolutely _no way_ Damon could focus on anything but _her_ that morning.

Damon subconsciously traced circles on the arm of the leather wing-back chair as he looked out the window. He tried to ignore the fact that Elena had sat in the very same place, not too long ago.

He was shaken by what was going on inside, but he'd summed up his feelings as best he could.

Elena… _perplexed_ him.

In _his_ feeble attempt to get under _her _skin, _she_'d found her way into _his_ head… and maybe even to the coarse surface of his heart.

His brows furrowed.

"She's poor but she turns down money. The Falls is _absolute_ hell for her but she refuses to quit." he muttered, more to himself than to Alfred.

The gray-haired man, seeing his young master so preoccupied with someone other than _himself_, smiled. "Pardon my intrusion, sir, but perhaps you're looking at this the wrong way."

Damon scoffed lightly and brushed his fingertips along his bottom lip. _'Mint and vanilla.'_

His line-of-sight never strayed from the sunlight filtering through the glass.

"Hmm, maybe you're right."

* * *

><p>Elena tightly gripped the edge of her sink as she brushed her teeth that morning. But no matter how many times she'd brush, gargle and rinse; she couldn't get rid of the feel of Damon's lips on hers.<p>

She sighed, dropped her toothbrush on the counter and looked up at her own reflection. She hoped he wouldn't think she was losing sleep over the _kiss_, even though the dark circles under her eyes proved she was.

She was angry and scared.

It angered her that Damon _stole_ her first kiss, but the possibility that the kiss made her _feel _something… it scared her infinitely more.

* * *

><p>Stefan loved having breakfast at Lexi's. The morning meal by her poolside was always an uplifting scene; the sun's rays glinted off almost every surface - the crystal blue water, the silver utensils… her amber eyes.<p>

And as Stefan sat at the small glass table, _not _transfixed by the book he held, but by _her, _he realized he loved having breakfast at Lexi's because in this clear light, she looked positively radiant.

Lexi, impervious to Stefan's ogling, took a hearty bite out of her cream cheese bagel and tipped her head back in delight.

Stefan's lips turned up at the sight.

"Stef, you've got to put an end to this."

He all but choked on his coffee. "Hm?"

She cocked a brow and pointed her butter knife at him. "You _have_ to make up with your brother." She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Stefan cleared his throat and massaged the back of his neck. "Lately, he's been too reckless. I snapped when… when he spoke so _rudely_ to you. He was out of line."

Lexi sighed and gave his forearm a comforting squeeze.

"But when Damon and Elena _kissed, _didn't it make you kind of… mad?"

"What?" he said incredulously.

"I know you like her," she said, suppressing a smile. "And I see why you do, she has the strength to keep going, and her eyes are honest."

Stefan's forehead creased at her words. His expression was a mix of surprise, anger and hurt.

She leaned in and put her hand on his. "Don't let her get away."

He shook his head and withdrew his hand from hers, as if she'd just burned him.

"...That's sneaky, Lex. You know how I feel and yet you still say those things."

"Stefan," she whispered cautiously.

He got up from the table, not once meeting her eyes. And he ran.

"Stefan, wait!" She wasn't letting him get away _that_ easily. She took off after him, her floral sundress fluttering in the wind as she ran.

By the time they reached the end of the block, she'd had enough.

"I'm going back to France soon!" she yelled after him, slightly out of breath.

It was enough for Stefan to stop.

"I want to _live_, Stefan. But to live, you have to stand on your own two feet. When I'm here, I'm just my father's daughter, the heir to the Branson fortune."

She ran a hand through her strawberry blonde tresses, exasperated.

"But way out in France, I'm just… _Lexi_. I made a name for _myself _over there. Over there's **my** dream, just waiting to be pursued."

_Earth-shattering. _It was the first word to enter Stefan's mind as he faced her and saw her on the brink of tears. He _never _saw, or wanted to see, her cry.

"I love you, Stefan-"

"But you didn't want me to have to _move _for you… for us." he finished for her.

She looked down. "I could _never_ ask that of you."

He had her in his arms, in a crushing embrace before her first tear had even hit the pavement.

* * *

><p>'<em>Thank God I did track in junior high.'<em> Elena thought as she madly dashed from block to block. She was going to be in _big_ trouble if she didn't hurry. _Truancy _does not a scholar make.

Though she didn't want to blame Katherine for her tardiness, it _was_ all Katherine's fault.

After receiving a severely distressed call from her, the_ moment_ Elena was about to leave for school, the dread in her friend's voice left her with no choice but to run over and make a house-call, just to see what was wrong.

Katherine had acted _strange_ the entire time.

Bed-ridden, she asked Elena one question, _"Is it true Damon kissed you at the party?"_

Elena cringed and reluctantly nodded. "It was an accide-", she tried to explain, but Katherine had already buried herself in her queen-sized bed's thick pillows and comforters.

"I'll always be on the fighting side, with you." Elena assured Katherine. But no matter what she said, the girl remained under the covers.

Confused and frustrated, there was little else Elena could do but leave.

"I really hope to see you back in school soon, Kat."

Elena's morning had been off-kilter and getting to school late was definitely _not_ going to help. Engrossed in her thoughts, she had to grind to a halt when a black Porsche stopped right in her path.

'_Just my luck.'_

The window rolled down, revealing Damon Salvatore with one hand on the wheel and two steely blue eyes aimed right at her. "Hey, you."

Elena's heart skipped a beat. "St-stopping here in an inconvenience for pedestrians." she muttered.

He smirked, got out of the car, and suavely rested his elbow on the door. "Didn't peg _you_ as the type to skip class."

Elena snorted. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it," she bit. She spun around, and took two defiant steps in the opposite direction.

"Elena,"

The way he said her name, like it was an admonition with a hint of a plea, sent shivers down her spine. She turned her head to face him with narrowed eyes.

He tapped the glossy roof of the Porsche and tilted his head towards the car. "Get in."

"HA!"

'_Is this a sick joke? Damon Salvatore is __**not**__ just offering me a ride right now...'_

"Suit yourself. It's a pretty long _run_ from here to The Falls. Say goodbye to your spotless attendance record." Damon shrugged, sliding smoothly back into the driver's seat.

'_Always __**so**__ stubborn.'_

Honestly, she would have rather _died_ than spend a mere five seconds in an enclosed space with Damon Salvatore… but hell, she was desperate.

She took about two seconds to weigh her options. _'If I __**don't**__ get in, I'll risk my record, give people more excuses to make my life a living hell, and make a certain autocrat very vengeful. If I __**do**__ get in…'_

Then Damon revved the engine, signalling that the time to decide was up. So, Elena rolled her eyes and begrudgingly pulled the passenger door open.

She slumped into the leather seat and crossed her arms without a word.

Damon was pleasantly surprised. He did _not_ expect her to take him up on his offer.

Elena stopped breathing all together when he reached his hand out towards her. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, expecting the worst. Then she heard a soft whirring sound and a tell-tale click. She opened her eyes. He'd just put her seat belt on for her.

'_What was __**that**__?' _Elena thought, breathlessly.

Damon met her inquisitive wide-eyed gaze for a split-second, gave her a lopsided smile, then went back to staring intently at the road, his face void of emotion.

* * *

><p><em>God<em>, he wished she'd stop staring at him with those chocolate-brown doe eyes. It was amazing how he could make eye contact with _hundreds_ of girls and feel_ nothing_ but share _one _look with _this_ girl and feel _everything._

In truth, when he looked at her, he remembered her lips on his.

"Like what you see, Gilbert?" he mused, cockily. He was an _expert _at using his bravado to deflect.

Elena blinked furiously and instantly shifted her gaze. In truth, when she looked at him, she remembered his lips on hers.

The tension was palpable.

It was a miracle that Damon could even keep his eyes on the road. The woman who had been plaguing his thoughts was _inches_ from him. How could he **not** be distracted by the way she ran her tongue along her bottom lip every other second, by the way she still smelled of mint and vanilla.

'_So, this is what it feels like to drive while intoxicated…'_

They were mere minutes from The Falls when Damon turned to her and broke the silence.

"Look, I-" his voice was hoarse, "last night… I didn't _mean_ for any of that to happen, but I don't regret it. And if you wanna forget it happened, fine. But I **can't**."

Pinned under his expectant gaze, it was as if Elena had lost all ability to form a coherent thought. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

It took her a second to realize the car had stopped and they were in front of campus.

"Thanks… for the ride," was all she managed to get out before she bolted from the Porsche. It was _imperative_ she distance herself from him before she allowed herself to fall for his act, before she could respond with the truth and say something she was sure she'd regret.

* * *

><p>A small crowd had formed at the terminal to see Lexi off. They all hoped her flight to Paris would be delayed but it was right on time, nonetheless. Lexi knew she only had a few minutes left to say her goodbyes yet a bright smile still graced her face.<p>

Her smile turned into a smirk as soon as Damon walked over to her, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"About what happened at the party the other day…" he began awkwardly.

"An apology… from Damon Salvatore?" she said, grinning. "I might fall over!"

He smirked at her and gave her a small nod. "Good luck out there."

She whispered something in his ear as she gave him a hug goodbye.

"Be _good _to her, Damon."

After a hug for Ric and one for Tyler, Lexi wiped at the tears brimming in her eyes.

"I'll miss my boys… and please tell Stefan that." she said sadly.

Damon kicked his brother mentally. _'Can't he suck it up and be a man for five minutes to say goodbye to Lexi, of all people?' _He thought Stefan was being childish and immature.

"Well, I'll be see-"

"LEXI!" Elena called out, squirming through the throng of people.

Damon froze momentarily at the sound of her voice.

"Elena!" Lexi smiled, hugging the girl. "You came to see me off!"

Elena nodded with a sad smile on her lips. "I never really got to thank you for what you did for me at the party."

"Ah! That reminds me!" Lexi handed Elena a box and lifted the lid. It was a pair of diamond-studded silver heels, the same ones she lent her on the night of the party.

* * *

><p><em>"In Paris, there's a saying that goes, 'A good pair of shoes will take you places.'"<em>

* * *

><p>"Don't even try to deny them, Elena." Lexi smirked. "Wear these to all the wonderful places you'll go, because I'm positive you'll go far."<p>

A feeling of admiration washed over Elena. This woman was her idol.

After countless _farewells_, _safe trips_, and _we'll miss yous_, Lexi went through the gates and most of the crowd dispersed. The moment was over and everyone was to go about their day as if it was any other.

"Stefan!" Tyler called.

Elena's head whipped around the same time Damon's did. Stefan was sitting on the airport bench, his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting on his linked hands.

"When did you get here?" Alaric asked him.

"About an hour ago."

"Are you _stupid_?" Elena ran up to him, pleading. "Go after her, Stefan! When it's real, you can't just walk away!"

Stefan took two steps towards her and closed the distance between them.

Damon was torn between gagging and punching Stefan's lights out.

"I'm going too," Stefan said softly.

"…what?"

"I'm going to France too," he repeated firmly, holding up his boarding pass. "You're right, Elena. That's why I'm not gonna walk away."

'_I'll die a happy girl if I feel as much love for someone as Stefan does for Lexi.'_ Elena thought, tearing up.

"Your drive to keep going- I really like that about you. A lot of people only wish they could have your kind of strength," he said sincerely.

And that was when Stefan leaned down and kissed Elena's forehead.

Damon could only recall _three_ instances when he felt immensely jealous of Stefan.

The first was at a Little League Baseball game. Damon was up to bat, and he struck out. _"Don't worry about it,"_ his coach had said, patting him on the back as he slumped into the dugout. Stefan batted next, and hit a home run. Giuseppe shot up from the bleachers, screaming _"That's my boy! That's my boy!"_

The second was during their junior high piano recital. Damon, Stefan and three other boys were the best of the best. Damon performed second to the last, and made a total of two errors in the _entire_ piece he played, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. He was pretty proud of himself until Stefan performed _flawlessly _after him. Stefan was considered a prodigy.

The third was two nights ago, when Elena had smiled for _Stefan_.

Watching his brother's lips come in contact with the soft planes of Elena's face would be the _fourth _instance. And the jealousy he felt surpassed all the other three.

And when Stefan simply passed by him to get to the gate, Damon snapped.

"STEFAAAN,"

Stefan stopped but didn't turn around to face his brother.

"Are you really going?" Only the most sensitive ears could pick up the trace of sadness that lined the question.

Stefan nodded.

Alaric and Tyler were just as surprised as Elena when Damon wrapped his little brother in a tight hug. "First time away from my bro in eighteen years," he smirked sadly. Damon ruffled Stefan's hair and abruptly pulled away from him.

"Hey, if _anybody _gives you shit in Paris, you tell us right away," he said sternly. Only Elena heard his voice crack. "Three of us will fly out and kick their asses."

Stefan smiled. "Take care of _yourself, _Damon."

* * *

><p>Elena stood by the wide, glass pane that overlooked the tarmac. She held a small square of white cloth, Stefan's handkerchief, tightly in her palm.<p>

"Bye-bye, Stefan." she whispered as the airplane sped down the runway and into the clouds.

She glanced to her right to see Damon, relentlessly waving his arm in giant arcs. He looked like a downright fool, but had a glint of innocence in his eyes that convinced Elena that her opinion of him was changing by the second.

* * *

><p>AN: _HOLY COW_. I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a while! School's keeping me busy and I wanted to leave on a _bang _note (the kiss).

Hope this chapter didn't disappoint! Put in teeny Delena scenes in there and probably the last Stefan/Lexi scene for this story. Now that Stefan's off wooing Lexi in Paris, the focus is on Delena! The next chapter's going to be very... :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	8. OR FALL FOR HIM

**CHAPTER 8 - OR FALL FOR HIM**

Elena spent a quarter and half of her lunch hour at the fire escape, hoping to soak up some cheeriness, pep and a little fresh air. But as luck would have it, the second she leaned over the rusted railing, the drabbest gray clouds appeared and overshadowed the noonday sun.

Elena's mood mimicked the foul weather.

Her train of thought was a million miles away and while she was mentally detached, her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She subconsciously ran a hand through her hair for the _tenth_ time, and she couldn't seem to stop swinging the foot that was dangling from the ledge. Her only consolation was that the endless sheets of the rain made for a numbing accompaniment to her countless thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>Stefan looked up from the bottom of the staircase, his lustrous, caramel faux hawk contrasting against the clothes he donned, a spotless white sweater vest over a spotless white polo.<em>

_"I know… that this is hard for you. But try not to give up."_

* * *

><p>After that moment with Stefan, each time she'd go up to the fire escape, he would come to mind. It was the same with his handkerchief. She looked down at the square of cloth on her lap; it had begun to fray from the number of times she'd folded and unfolded it.<p>

_Today,_ though, she couldn't stop thoughts of the _other _Salvatore from getting into her head.

She was clear about her feelings for Stefan. She did like him. It hurt her to see him leave though she was happy, knowing he'd left for nothing short of love.

As for her feelings towards Damon… she wasn't so sure, and _that _terrified her. Yet she found herself constantly reprimanding her traitorous heart because she _wouldn't_… she _couldn't_ allow herself to feel anything beyond loathing for the certain blue-eyed charmer.

In spite of that, _he_ was still the only thing on her mind as she walked, in a daze, to the banquet hall, deciding to use what few minutes were left of her lunch break to actually _eat_ lunch.

She sat down at an empty table and gave a jolted little jump when a manly hand slapped the wooden surface. She instantly felt her mouth run dry, goosebumps appear on her skin, and a shiver run down her spine. His proximity did that to her.

'_I can't catch a break..' _Elena thought with a gulp. She looked up to meet his gaze.

She was a bit taken aback by what she saw in his powder-blue eyes, innocence, hesitation, and a hint of desire.

With a slight tilt of her head, she watched him open his mouth (as if to say something), close it again, then nervously run a hand through his hair.

Elena didn't know what to make of this. She'd never seen him this way before, like a child that _badly _wanted a cookie but was too afraid to ask… for fear of being denied one. Elena laughed lightly at the comparison.

'_It's almost as if… he's having…trouble finding the right words.'_ she thought, biting her bottom lip.

Damon felt stupid as hell.

'_Of all the times to be at a loss for words…'_ he thought with a shake of his head.

Elena was staring at him with questioning eyes.

He took a breath, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and decided to do it quick and painless. He was going to go _straight_ for the kill.

He surprised _himself_ with the confident, even slightly arrogant, tone of voice that tumbled from his lips.

"Sunday, 1'o clock, at the Town Square by the clock tower. _Be there._"

Damon turned away from her before she could utter a single word, then he strode smugly towards the banquet hall doors, ignoring all the dumbfounded looks sent his way.

All the color drained from Elena's face. She watched him go with wide-eyes and was _sure_ she'd heard him wrong. _'What am I supposed to make of this… this… ambiguity? And he has __**the balls**__ to walk away!'_

She quickly followed after him, her cheeks reddening from all the malicious, sideways glances being directed at her. Elena caught up to Damon in the nearly empty hallway outside the banquet hall.

"Hey!" she grabbed his upper arm then let go of it just as quickly when she felt his rippling muscles tense beneath her touch. He turned to face her, his jaw clenched and his lips drawn into a thin line.

Elena tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms. "What… what _was_ _**that**_ just now?"

Damon's brow furrowed. _'Was she seriously this naïve?'_

For a moment, his bravado faltered and his voice came out soft. "This wise, old crack told me I was looking at things the wrong way, and I think he might've been right."

"Damon-" she started, the look on her face dead serious.

Then, as if his fail-safes were kicking in, the walls were right back up and a salacious smirk plastered itself on his face. He leaned towards her, closing the small distance between them until his lips hovered right by her ear. "_**That**_… was me asking you _out, _Elena."

Without another word, Damon strode off, the vent of his slick, black jacket flitting behind him.

Wide-eyed, Elena could only watch him walk away. She blinked twice and let out the breath she'd been holding. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair, pulling it in her annoyance. Once again, she cursed herself, her stomach for doing over a million somersaults, and her heart for going a mile a minute. As of late, it was getting more and more difficult to ignore the effect _he_ had on her. And as much as she'd like to deny it, it really _was_ intensifying each day.

* * *

><p>It was a dreary Sunday when, as promised, the sleek, black Salvatore Sedan pulled up to the Town Square. Alfred stepped out of the driver's seat, tried his best to hide his smile, and duly pulled Damon's door open.<p>

The Archetype _rarely_ ever dressed simply, and_ today_ was one of those rare times he did. He donned a simple, gray v-neck under his leather jacket, jeans and classic black Doc Martens.

'_She's into the 'Average Joe' look, right…'_

The sky was bleak but Damon was never one to let the weather bother him. It was just one of those forces of nature that he didn't have control of; so he let it be. He, especially, wouldn't let it damper him_ today_. He was anxious enough, waiting for an entirely different "force of nature" that he'd be seeing in a while… the one and only Elena Gilbert.

He glanced at the face of his wrist watch, and chuckled. He was _early_.

'_What's this girl doing to me…' _he thought, as he walked along the pavement, sidestepping the picnicking couples, scampering children and the cliché elderly, bird-feeding women. He leaned against the red-bricked clock tower and as he scanned people's faces, they all looked… happy.

And here he was... _alone_. He wasn't the least bit jealous... nope, not at all.

"If she doesn't come in five minutes, I'll kill her." he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

* * *

><p>"I la-la-love shopping days!" Caroline grinned, happily swinging her clothe-filled tote bags.<p>

Elena giggled. "No, you love your mom's boss, who gave your mom a raise, who raised your allowance." She said, raising a brow at her best friend.

Caroline bit her lip and nodded, her blonde curls bouncing. "You're so right."

The pair laughed as they walked, arms linked, from block to block, snacking, window shopping and, as all best friends do, simply having a good time.

Elena licked her ice cream cone and deeply inhaled the fresh, Sunday air. "I miss this, Care!" She really did miss these happy-go-lucky, carefree moments, and with all the drama in her life, she badly _needed _a day off.

"Me too!" Caroline smiled faintly. "But it's _today_, right? Is it really okay for you _not _to go?"

Elena knew immediately knew she was talking about the Damon's proposed "date".

She gulped. "Why should I have to go meet _him_, on a _Sunday_, might I add? And _why_ should I feel even the least bit guilty if I choose not to…?"

The blonde sighed. "You know he'll just be angry with you if you don't.."

"Going is hell and _not _going's hell. Just put me out of my misery, Care." Elena groaned over-dramatically, tilting her head back and pulling her striped, red scarf tightly around her neck.

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, I said I'd _never _give up, didn't I?"

As they entered a little boutique, Caroline sensed that that was the end of the discussion. "Ooh I know! Why don't we just buy you a new scarf! You've had this one for as long as I can remember…" she cringed, feeling the worn fabric.

"No need," Elena said dismissively. "..I can't get rid of this ol' thing." The scarf was a bit outdated but it was a gift from her mother. Her 12-year old self still remembered how it looked like, wrapped beautifully, under the Gilbert Christmas tree.

"They have really pretty ones!" Caroline sang, pulling stylish scarves around her own neck.

Elena giggled and pulled her cropped, white jacket closer to her. "No thanks, Care."

* * *

><p>With all the fun they were having, Elena and Caroline barely noticed how quickly time flew.<p>

They decided to "do what the kids do nowadays", and Elena tried not to laugh at the site of her 17-year old friend playing the classic "Claw" arcade game. Caroline had a look of pure concentration on her face and an unrelenting grip on the joystick.

Elena actually squealed when the claw got a hold of a Batman action figure.

The girls laughed as Caroline picked up the cheap piece of plastic.

"Batman's hot," she concluded, lifting up the tiny mask and revealing the face underneath. "He's probably a messed-up and lonely guy though. I mean, he can never ever take the mask off, right? No one in the world would know he's really got two sides to him…"

Elena's heart lurched in her chest. She knew Caroline was talking about Batman, a fictional character, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking about someone similar, in her _own_ life… Damon.

She felt guilty. And worse, she felt bad for him. She may as well have been the only person in the world that would know if he's got two sides to him, but she didn't even give him a chance to prove it.

* * *

><p><em>She glanced to her right to see Damon, relentlessly waving his arm in giant arcs. He looked like a downright fool, but had a glint of innocence in his eyes that convinced Elena that her opinion of him was changing by the second.<em>

* * *

><p>As if on cue, the rain began to pour as Elena glanced at the digital arcade wall clock that flashed neon green. It was 4 o'clock.<p>

Something shifted inside her.

"I'm sorry, Caroline!" she managed to say before she took off running.

Elena took a small, red umbrella from her tote and held it above her head. As she ran, splashing carelessly through massive puddles, she could feel the water seeping through the ends of her jeans.

'_What am I running for?'_ Elena asked herself, she felt awfully stupid.

But she kept going, nevertheless.

'_There's no way he's __**still**__ there… there's no-'_

And as the frenzied people dispersed from the Town Square, seeking shelter from the rain, she saw him.

The rain fell harder, beating down on him, but he remained still. She could make out his figure leaning on the clock tower, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. His head was bent down in complete and utter defeat, and his eyes were glued to the ground. He stood there, a broken man.

The sight tugged on her heartstrings, hard.

'_He waited.'_

She approached him slowly and bit her lip. _'He'll probably kill me for standing him up…' _

Elena stood a foot before him but with his head bent down, he didn't seem to notice her there.

"Uhh, Damon?" she started softly.

His head shot up at her voice. "Elena!" he growled hoarsely and lunged at her.

She shrieked, dropped the umbrella, and turned her back to him in an attempt to brace herself. But the impact she was met with was not, _at all,_ the kind she was expecting.

Elena froze.

Damon's strong arms wrapped around her, so he was clutching her by the waist. She could feel his chest heaving against her back and his face buried in her hair. He'd _embraced_ her from behind.

"It's… c-c-cold." he whispered.

Damon held her lithe frame as if he was holding onto her for dear life. He was drenched from head to toe, numb and frozen, but when he got a whiff of that distinct mint and vanilla, he felt warm. He never wanted to let go.

Elena's knees went weak as she melted in his arms. Given the circumstances, it was wrong for her to feel so… _safe_ when he held her. She felt protected. She never wanted him to let go.

They stood like that, entwined with each other in the rain, for about a minute. Then Elena snapped out of her reverie and harshly disentangled herself from him.

She quickly grabbed the discarded umbrella and held it over her head.

"Knock it off, Damon! What's the big idea, hugging me so suddenly?" she said, a little out of breath.

His teeth chattered as he spoke weakly. "I-I'm glad you're s-safe."

"What?"

"I was w-worried when you didn't show up. I t-thought something happened to y-you.."

Elena's eyes softened. "Nothing happened to me."

"S-so tell me why you're late! If you don't have a good reason, I'll k-kill y-" he barely got to finish his sentence before he broke out in a fit of coughs.

Elena stepped closer to him until they were both under the shade of the umbrella. She lightly rubbed his back then rolled her eyes. _'Even in his current condition, he's playing the "tough guy"…'_

"I never said I accepted your offer, anyway!" she countered, indignantly.

"W-well, you're here, aren't you? Actually, you came here to see _me_." his voice rose until he was practically yelling. They were at arm's length from each other and she saw that his blue eyes were clouded, making them look steelier than ever.

"Maybe… you're in_ love_ with me, Elena."

She seethed. It took all of her will power _not _to slap him and walk away. At a distance of about three feet, she had half a mind to leave him, then and there, and just go on home. But then, after a round of incessant sneezing, he simply gave up and crouched on the cold, wet ground.

"Damn it," he said, rubbing his hands together for a little bit of heat.

Elena wasn't heartless. She was sure she didn't have it in her conscience to leave him there.

So she walked back to him, and knelt by his side.

"I'm sorry." she sighed, defeated. "C'mon, you look like you could use a hot cup of tea… my treat."

* * *

><p>AN: Holy smokes, I updated! Haha.. I was planning on putting in **a lot** of Delena, I just had to chop this chapter into two! I find hugs (especially from behind) very, very romantic so I wonder what's gonna happen to these two.. Hmm. :-)_  
><em>

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	9. A TRUCE FOR DEUCE

**CHAPTER 9 - A TRUCE FOR DEUCE**

* * *

><p><em>"I'm sorry." she sighed, defeated. "C'mon, you look like you could use a hot cup of tea… my treat."<em>

* * *

><p>Damon lifted his head to look at her. A range of emotions quickly flitted across her face and for a split second, she was an open book. The slight purse of her lips told him she was ill at ease with her own offer <em>yet <em>he could make out the genuine concern, clear as day, in her eyes.

"Well, it's the _least_ you could do…" he muttered, standing up and walking away abruptly.

Elena was rendered speechless, her mouth slightly agape.

"Salvatore!" she yelled after him, irked. She reached into her bag and gripped her wallet, which was painfully light with a couple of bills and a few coins. "Wait up!"

* * *

><p>A sigh of relief escaped Elena's lips when the rain let up. She was only vaguely aware of her actions as she shook her tiny umbrella dry; she was too preoccupied observing Damon. He walked a good distance ahead of her, his wet hair flat against his forehead, his back hunched and his hands buried deep in his pockets.<p>

They walked along one of the less crowded streets, an avenue flanked by neglected, rundown buildings.

"This is the place!" Elena grinned, turning towards one of the unkempt structures. "It's on the top floor."

Damon followed her gaze, raised a brow and curled his lip. "You're kidding…"

"Hey, don't judge a book by its cover," Elena huffed, rolling her eyes. "This place has got the _tastiest _tea in town… and their scones aren't half bad either."

'_They're cheap too…' _she added as an afterthought.

"Look, Gilbert." he said in a low voice. "You may not _know _this but I have a reputation to uphold."

Elena shook her head in disbelief as he walked away without another glance at the dingy place.

Before she could curse Damon under her breath, she was blindsided by a shifty-looking man in a crisp pinstripe suit. His mischievous eyes shone, just like his hair that was slicked back in a quiff. He ran his eyes over her body shamelessly then shot her a cunning albeit _dazzling _smile.

"Afternoon, miss! Surely a _beautiful_ young lady such as yourself wouldn't mind filling out a quick survey," he winked, grinned and handed her a clipboard. "Of course, you'll reap the benefits afterwards. I bet you'd love a free movie for two! Or perhaps I can interest you in a free toaster-oven?"

Elena smiled uncomfortably and fought the urge to roll her eyes at the obvious sham.

"No thanks."

The salesman's smile dimmed. "It's really a _very _easy survey. It'll take no more than five minutes of your time," he said, all but forcing the pen into her hand.

That was when Damon grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him forcibly towards the ground.

"JEEZ!" He looked up at Damon, his eyes bulging with disbelief, as he scrambled on the wet pavement.

"Go pester someone else, you lowlife." Damon spat through gritted teeth. His balled his hands into fists and began towards the sad excuse for an entrepreneur, hell-bent on breaking his pearly white teeth.

Hell-bent, that is,until Elena stepped in front of him and placed her small hands on his chest to restrain him. "Damon!" she half-screamed, half-pleaded.

Damon gulped, refusing to acknowledge the fact that aside from the heat of fever emanating from his body, protectiveness and jealousy were rolling off him in waves.

Elena had every intention of telling him off for abusing the poor salesman, but even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel his burning skin. Instinctively, she moved her hand from his chest to his neck. By touch alone, she could tell he had a raging fever.

Damon lowered his head and furrowed his brows at her. Elena's soft, warm hand rested just below his jaw. It was such a _gentle_ gesture and he felt undeserving of it, given the way he'd just acted. She stared at him, as if trying to decipher the inner workings of his mind; and he stared right back at her, at her slightly parted lips and her disappointed eyes.

His hands slowly unfurled.

"C'mon… you're sick." she said softly, shyly withdrawing her hands from his body and giving him a light push towards the rusted door. Damon complied wordlessly. Elena's small act of tenderness was enough to unhinge him.

"Ladies first," he said, just as softly, tilting his head towards the stairway. Elena wouldn't meet his eyes; her gaze was glued to her worn out Chuck Taylors and the ever-so-careful steps she took to sidestep him.

They walked up the small steps in silence. The stairway was narrow and each time their arms would brush each other by accident, the electricity that passed between them would charge the air. They were so _very_ close to each other, and they were both aware of it.

When they got to the hallway, Elena put a little distance between them, sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"You… have a really short temper," she muttered, pressing the elevator button. "You really shouldn't go around shoving people like that. Yeah, the guy was…_persistent_…but he was just doing his job."

Damon leaned with his shoulder against the wall; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. _'I was just about to beat up a guy who was harassing her. Most girls would be __**dying**__ of giddiness right now. Then again, she's really different from most girls...'_

"_That guy_ has a stupid, useless hoax of a job… No self-respecting salesman would hit on a girl then harass her just to get a signature on his _pointless_ little survey. It's moronic." The last word came out strangled. Damon could feel his throat closing up and he rubbed his nose in annoyance. He really detested feeling weak.

Surprisingly, Elena _caught_ the hardly-noticeable crack of Damon's voice and was instantly worried that his condition was getting worse. She felt the guilt creeping up again; it was _her fault_, after all. She'd gotten him sick in the first place.

"Anyway," he deflected, rubbing his hands together, "is the food at this place really that good? I have high standards for food, y'know… I _do_ have a personal chef and I -"

The _ding_ of the elevator interrupted Damon's tirade and Elena smirked inwardly.

'_Serves his ego right…'_

"Quit whining, Salvatore." she said languidly, cocking a brow at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her and tried to focus on the slow-closing elevator doors, not on the fact that he was in an enclosed space… with Elena… and Elena alone.

She pressed the button for the top floor… _twice. _On her third press of the button, paranoia began to set in. The button wasn't lighting up.

"I think- I don't- It's not working!" Elena gasped.

"Quit messing around, Gilbert." Damon said gravely.

"I'm not!"

"No, no, no. This_ can't _be happening." he groaned, slapping his own forehead. "You _broke _it, didn't you?" he accused, pinning Elena under the intensity of his steel-blue stare.

Before she could open her mouth to protest, the fluorescent lights flickered and a thundering sound shook the elevator car. Elena yelped, her eyes flying shut. And Damon, eyes frantic, quickly sought something to grab onto. To their relief, it only lasted for a split-second. But to their dismay, they were now helplessly stuck in an elevator.

* * *

><p>"HELP!<p>

ANYONE?

WE'RE STUCK IN HERE!"

Elena ran a hand through her hair, unnerved by another failed attempt at calling for help. She placed a hand on her hip and chewed on her bottom lip as she paced back and forth in the five-foot space.

The sound of Damon clearing his throat caused Elena to turn around and look at him. He sat on the tiled elevator floor, arms crossed, one leg propped up, and his back against the wall. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed.

"Uh, do you _mind _helping me out a bit over here?" Elena said crossing her arms.

Damon opened his eyes half-way and let out a breath. He lazily got up, walked over to the tightly sealed elevator door… and kicked it… _twice._ He then sat back down and resumed his original position.

Elena rolled her eyes. "URRGGGG."

She grabbed her outdated cellphone from her bag and began pushing keys furiously.

"E-le-na!" Damon enunciated, ruffling his raven-black hair in exasperation, "It's no use. Firstly, no one can hear us. Secondly, there's no service in this hell hole. Thirdly… what I just said." The way he raised his brows as he spoke made her feel like a child that was being lectured.

She ran her tongue over her teeth to keep from biting his head off. "Well, what do _you_ suppose we do, Einstein?" she asked with the phoniest of smiles.

"Honey, there's only one thing we _**can **_do…"

Damon linked his hands behind his head and waggled his brows.

Elena's jaw dropped at his suggestive words.

"Oh get your head out of the gutter, Gilbert." Damon smirked. "The only thing we _**can **_do… is _wait_."

* * *

><p>"Ohhhh-kay, I'm bored." Damon muttered.<p>

Elena laughed dryly.

Even though the temperature had quickly dropped over the last two hours, the two refused to share any kind of body heat and were stubbornly sitting across from each other.

Damon pursed his lips in deep thought, stood up and shrugged off his leather jacket.

_'It's freezing! Is his head screwed on right?'_

Though with the perfect fit of his shirt to his body, Elena couldn't help but take a moment to admire Damon's toned physique.

'_God, Elena! Snap out of it!'_

"_What on earth_ are you doing, Salvatore?"

He snapped his fingers and donned a devious look on his face. "We have to escape through the ceiling. You go first and push the emergency exit open, then once you're up there, I could probably reach it and pull myself up…"

"HA!" Elena rubbed her eyes. "This isn't _Mission Impossible, _Damon."

He squatted down to her level and looked at her with a raised brow and a smile playing on his lips.

Elena's heart skipped a beat.

"Get on."

"Pardon me?"

"Get on my shoulders and I'll hoist you up."

Elena drew a sharp breath. "No way! I don't wanna be hoisted…"

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." he said gruffly.

"And _you_ can't tell me what to do." she replied flatly.

The aggravation was getting the better of him; Damon was used to getting his way. "This isn't the time to be _shy, _Elena!"

"I am _not_ shy!" she answered back at him, her nostrils flaring.

"Then you can do it." He didn't even wait for her to disagree before he ducked under her legs and lifted her up.

Elena shrieked and continuously slapped the top of Damon's head.

"Ooow, Ow, Elena! Just push the damn hatch open!"

Once they were both atop the elevator, they realized there was nowhere to go.

Elena was at the end of her wits. She tapped her foot and turned to Damon with a scowl. "What _now_, Tom Cruise?"

A string of curses fell from Damon's lips.

Elena muttered to herself. "That's gonna get you nowhe-"

It took all of _three_ seconds.

It took two seconds for Elena to step a little too close to the edge, for her worn out sneaker to slip on the dusty surface, for her to lose her footing.

The piercing scream made Damon's blood run cold.

Suddenly time seemed to go in slow-motion and Damon became a slave to his instincts and reflexes.

On the _third_ second, he had her dainty, little hand in his unbreakable grasp. And she was holding on, literally, for dear life.

He pulled her towards him, away from the perilous ledge, and she collided into his chest, subconsciously wrapping her arms around him in the process. The impact knocked the air out of him and sent them stumbling backwards, falling down the hatch, and left them sprawled on the elevator floor.

Damon groaned.

'_Yup, that hurt.'_

In spite of the pain in his sore neck and the incessant throbbing in his head, Damon still managed to lift his head up to check if Elena was okay. He sighed in relief; he'd cushioned her fall.

Damon lightly brushed the hair away from her face. Elena face was buried in his chest, her hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and tears fell silently from her tightly shut eyes.

Damon's voice came out hoarse. "It's okay. _You're_ okay." He tried his best to soothe her. He was always the boy that made girls cry, not the one that got them to stop.

Elena lifted her head from his chest. "Damon," she whispered. She knew something was wrong, his fingertips were icy cold yet his chest was burning hot. His steel-blue eyes were a clouded gray, a sheen layer of sweat coated his forehead, and his breath came out in short puffs.

Damon felt his eyelids grow heavy and his limbs grow numb.

"I'm okay, I'm okay… but _**you**_ aren't." was the last thing he heard before drifting into a state of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>'<em>Someone's bound to come for us in the morning…'<em> she told herself.

But Elena was worried.

She looked down at Damon, his head resting on her lap. In the past hour, he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"You're lucky I always prepare for anything." Elena said with a small smile. She grabbed her tote bag and fished for the small box of aspirin.

"I-if it wasn't prescribed by my d-doctor, I can't-"

"Quit whining, Salvatore." she whispered, mimicking her earlier sentiments. "It's not much, but it should do." She uncapped her water bottle and tipped it towards Damon's mouth.

Even with his leather jacket draped across his torso, he was shivering. Elena pulled her jacket off her body and laid it on him. Then she gently pulled her striped red scarf from her neck, running the fabric through her fingers. The scarf she remembered to be full of love, life and happiness. She wrapped it carefully around Damon's neck.

"Aren't y-you cold?" Damon managed to get out, his brows furrowing.

"Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be fine. Us, _'commoners'_," she stressed the word, "we're used to the cold."

If she saw the amount of warmth in Damon's eyes at that very moment, her heart would have melted. But she wasn't looking, and he had his walls up before she had the chance to see.

Elena laughed lightly.

"W-what's so funny, Gilbert?" Damon asked, slightly peeved. Nothing about this was _funny_.

Elena smiled. "Nothing… it's just that your reputation as 'the leader of The Archetypes' just kinda flew out the window."

"Shut up," Damon muttered. But it was difficult to disagree with her when he, who vowed he'd never fall in love, was now this sappy weakling, caught off guard by a simple girl… a simple, beautiful, strong-willed, _take-no-one's-shit_ kind of girl.

He was struggling to keep his eyes open for much longer. But he needed to tell her something, something important.

"Elena," he said, barely audible.

She leaned in closer to him to hear, her mousy hair cascading around her face.

"About your red notice… I take it back."

Elena's eyes flew to his. She'd only seen his eyes like that _one_ other time, the moment he asked... better yet, _commanded_, her out.

* * *

><p><em>She was a bit taken aback by what she saw in his powder-blue eyes, innocence, hesitation, and a hint of desire.<em>

* * *

><p>"I feel <em>obliged<em> to take it back," he repeated, really more to himself then to her. "This probably makes us even now…

Truce?"

It took Elena a while to form a coherent thought. It was like her heart had just jumped out of her chest and gotten stuck in her throat. At that point in time, she knew it she needed to choose her words_ very_ carefully.

But **_hell_**, the word slipped from her tongue before a single rational thought had even formed in her brain. And that single word, they both knew, would change _everything_ between them.

"Truce."

* * *

><p>AN: I know, I know! The whole "stuck in an elevator" concept is so cliché! Well, I'm a _sucker _for clichés. :-) So, Damon practically _saved_ Elena's life and Elena practically _gave _Damon her beloved scarf... Hmm, I wonder what that's supposed to mean. Haha! I'm floating on my little Delena cloud right now!

__Actually, I'm on the Delena/**Nian **cloud! Has anyone else heard about their escapades at the Maxim, FX and Fox Entertainment Party? A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E._  
><em>

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	10. A SANCTUARY

**CHAPTER 10 - A SANCTUARY**

Elena rubbed her eyes and drowsily fumbled for her phone. It was a miracle she found it, what with the fluorescent lights overhead dimming considerably with each passing hour. With the press of a button, the small space of the elevator was bathed in an electric blue glow. It was a few minutes past midnight and Elena was utterly _exhausted_. It had been a _long_ day and she was completely drained.

She gave a tired sigh and looked down at Damon's sleeping figure.

He looked…_ different_ when he slept. Maybe it was because she couldn't see his eyes; those piercing, intense, judgmental, brutally-honest _blue_ eyes. Or maybe it was because his brows weren't furrowed, or because his cheeks had turned a slight pink from the cold, or because he had the most innocent little curve adorning his lips.

Elena bit her lip and gently lifted his head from her lap. She cringed when he stirred. He yawned, and opened his eyes a fraction of an inch to look up at her. His sky-blue eyes swept her face and a small sigh of contentment escaped his lips.

"You're… different from any girl I've ever met," he slurred in a whisper.

Elena froze. She was ninety-nine percent sure Damon was half-asleep _and_ having a fever dream.

'_A fever-induced, sleep-induced, drug-induced dream,'_ she repeated to herself with a gulp.

"And it's not because you don't have millions in your bank account or because you don't fawn over designer clothes… or because you're the only girl **not** to fall head-over-heels for me."

Elena couldn't tell if he was speaking consciously or sub-consciously, but she was hanging on to every word.

"I'm not bothered by disappointment, by rejection. Those things don't get to me. But it's so _different_ with you, Elena. Because with _you_, I actually care."

The last word tumbled from his lips in a voice barely above a whisper.

A comfortable silence blanketed them both and Elena let herself be wrapped in the warmth of his words.

"Damon?" she breathed. Tears began to well up in her eyes, clouding her vision.

There was no response.

Damon laid there, his limbs sprawled carelessly and his head turned away from her. His chest rose and fell in a rhythmic sleep. Elena drew a shaky breath then used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

'_It was just a fever-induced dream. He was asleep the whole time,'_ she convinced herself, lying on the ground and facing away from him. She shut her eyes tight, willing sleep to claim her. She felt stupid for hoping, for even thinking that Damon would let her in. It was yet another foolish, pathetic hope. Though no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she _still_ wished he'd been awake.

* * *

><p>Beneath the serene façade, Damon's heart was running amok, beating like crazy.<p>

'_Spineless, jerk, dumbass...__**coward**__.' _Damon was calling himself every foul name in the book and mentally slapping himself in the process.

He'd been awake the entire time.

And he was _so_ tired… tired of denying the fact that he _felt something_ for Elena Gilbert.

Damon was damaged goods. He couldn't even remember the last time someone actually bothered to care for him. Yet here was Elena, an _archetype_ in her very own way.

'_She's not perfect; she's so much more,'_ Damon realized. _'She's beautiful. She's witty. She stands up for everything she believes in… she's __**infallible**__.'_

Elena was everything he only wished he could be, gentle, patient, good-hearted. And here she was, taking care of _him_.

This was the chance he was waiting for. He needed to say what _so badly_ needed to be said, and feigning sleep while he did so was the only way his pride would allow him to.

He hated himself for that.

He didn't even have the courage to look at her after his confession, not when he _heard_ her silent cry, not even when she called his name. Each second of it killed him, but he was _terrified_. He needed to get those words off his chest… but he wasn't ready for her reaction.

Because he was a _hundred percent_ sure she'd reject him.

'_I don't deserve her,' _he thought, his chest heavy with shame. And he just couldn't handle the rejection, not from _**her**_.

* * *

><p>It was a severe understatement to say Elena couldn't fall asleep that night. She went from lying curled-up in a fetal-position, to leaning her head up against a corner of the elevator, to resting her forehead on her own propped-up knees.<p>

The end result was a frustrated girl with bloodshot eyes and her head cradled in her hands in defeat. 'Fall asleep, fall asleep, fall asleep," she groaned monotonously.

No such luck.

It was only in the wee hours of the morning, around dawn, when Elena was finally able to fall into a deep slumber.

She was so lost in the limbo between sensibility and senselessness, that she barely even realized she'd crawled beneath the makeshift blanket of their jackets. She didn't realize that she'd tossed and turned countless times 'til their foreheads were mere inches apart. She didn't realize. And she didn't care. Because she'd already fallen asleep in the sanctuary of Damon's arms.

Her breathing had evened and her lids had dropped before she realized that she'd just found the comfort she'd spent the _whole _night looking for.

* * *

><p>'<em>That was… a <em>_**rough**__ night.'_ Damon concluded, willing his eyes open with a soft yawn. Not, in a million years, did he expect to see what he actually saw before him.

Elena was pressed up to the side of his body, one of her arms warmly draped over his torso. Her face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck and her long, brown hair fanned out behind her.

And he _really _didn't expect to see his _own _arm under Elena's head, reaching all the way to her side, holding her in a protective embrace.

He smiled softly at his own incapability to tear his eyes away from her; his eyes held that much adoration. He barely thought twice about gently caressing her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear. As he traced each of her features with a feather-light touch, he took a moment to sweep the tip of his thumb over her rosy lips.

* * *

><p><em>In truth, when he looked at her, he remembered her lips on his.<em>

* * *

><p>Just then, the elevator doors opened with a rumble and a sudden, bright light snapped Damon out of his reverie and roused Elena from sleep.<p>

It took her a few seconds to take in the non-existent breadth between Damon and herself. Her eyes widened.

Elena pushed his body away with all her might, and _that_, fuelled by adrenaline, shock and embarrassment, was _a lot _of force. Damon's breath was knocked out of him as his back hit the cool metal of the elevator wall.

"Ow," he cringed, pushing himself upright.

Flustered, Elena bit her lip and placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"Ey, you two!" A rough, heavily-accented voice called.

Elena's head whirled around to see that the disembodied voice belonged to an elderly Latino man. He had a tight grip on his mop and his eyes, under bushy, black brows, were narrowed at them.

"What are you doing? You're not allowed to enter an abandoned building! _Ay, los jóvenes locos! _You should take it to a hotel…"

Elena's mouth fell open. "I- We- No, no this isn't…" she stuttered, blinking furiously.

Damon rubbed the back of his left shoulder; it was still a bit sore.

'_God damn, that girl's strong for such a tiny thing.'_

He got up and dusted himself off before turning to the janitor. "Disculparnos, señor, pero estuvimos atrapados en el ascensor _toda_ la noche. Así la próxima vez, ponga una señal de advertencia **por favor**."

Damon smiled smugly at the man before offering his hand to Elena. She grabbed her stuff off the floor then took his hand in a daze, not sure if she'd just heard Damon speak fluent Spanish, or if she was completely losing it. He pulled her up, stuffed his hands in his pockets and sidestepped the gaping janitor.

Once they were out of the stuffy building and into the fresh morning air, Elena took a deep breath and ran her hands through her mess of hair.

As Damon rubbed the back of his neck and tilted his head upwards, all he could think about was how the rose-pink light of the sky was the same shade as Elena's lips. He shook his head and glanced over at her as she sat on the curb with a small groan and placed her head between her knees.

Damon was kneeling by her side in an instant. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, his hand automatically rubbing small circles on her back.

Elena glanced up at him skeptically.

"I'm fine. Sleep-deprived, but fine… Did you _really _just speak Spanish back there?"

"_Ah, sí señorita. Mi lengua es __**muy**__ talentoso."_ Damon drawled in a sexy accent, all the while waggling his eyebrows at her.

A smile tugged at the corners of Elena's lips. "What did you tell the poor guy, he looked… well, as shocked as I was!"

Damon shrugged with a smirk. "I just told him to take it easy. I mean, c'mon, we were _stuck _in that elevator… I told him to put up a warning sign next time."

Elena tilted her head back with a laugh and got up from the curb.

He loved the sound of her laugh, Elena Gilbert rarely ever laughed. He chuckled along with her as he shrugged back into his trademark leather jacket. It was only then he noticed the worn wool around his neck. He tugged on the scarf until it pooled into his hands. He looked down at it for a few seconds, ran the striped, red fabric through his fingers, then shifted his expectant gaze towards Elena, who shyly avoided eye contact.

He took a step closer to her and wordlessly extended the hand that held the soft wool.

"Yeah, that's mine…" Elena said, awkwardly taking the scarf.

The tips of their fingers brushed each other for the tiniest moment and when Elena looked up into his eyes, they held inexplicable amounts of _gratitude_.

"I'll walk you home," Damon said softly.

_'Why the hell did I say that?'_ he thought. _'I don't walk girls home...'_

Elena tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms. "Oh, don't bother, Damon. I know the way from here... Are _you_ gonna be okay?"

Damon smirked and played with the phone in his hands. "I've got Alfred on speed dial."

"Alfred?" Elena arched a brow.

"…my butler."

"Of _course_," She said with a smile and a shake of her head. "I completely forgot, an Archetype with a butler… duh."

Elena sighed inwardly, her time out was over. She was back in the real world, where Damon Salvatore was the multi-million dollar scion and Elena Gilbert was the nondescript commoner.

"Elena, listen I-"

"I'm sorry," Elena said cutting him off. She let her gaze fall then she swallowed her pride. "Everything that happened yesterday, that was all my fault…"

Damon's eyes softened. "It was just a little cold. It was nothing, Elena. You played the nurse role pretty well anyway," he winked at her, grinning.

"You don't… need to lose any sleep over it," he added afterwards, sincerely.

A genuine smile graced Elena's lips. Damon took a breath and gave her a small, lopsided one in return.

He cleared his throat. "Get home safe," he said, extending his hand.

'_A handshake?'_ Elena thought with a small laugh and a roll of her eyes.

She ignored his offer. Elena took two steps closer, stood on the tips of her toes, and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a warm hug.

* * *

><p>AN: Damon's finally accepting the blatant fact that he's falling for Elena. Now, he just needs to learn that love's not a one-way street. He needs to love himself before he can really love someone else.

And how could Elena **not **hug him when he was being _so _adorable? :-)

Speaking Spanish... one of Damon Salvatore's many talents. And he's truly a man of _many _talents. (More to be revealed in later chapters!)

There were a lot of feelings and realizations in this chapter, heehee. Keep in mind that Damon and Elena are now in some sort of 'truce'. It's a mystery as to what that entails though!

We're going back to The Falls Academy in Chapter 11! :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	11. MUCH, MUCH BETTER

**CHAPTER 11 - MUCH, MUCH BETTER**

Damon felt Elena's arms wind effortlessly around his torso, her dainty hands resting lightly on his back. As her cheek pressed into his chest, she softly inhaled the leathery smell of his jacket. And Damon didn't miss the upwards curve of the corner of her lips against his shoulder.

She hugged him warmly. It was a motion_ so_ fluid and a fit so perfect; it was as if she'd done it countless times before.

He simply didn't understand the gesture. _'She… got caught up in the moment, is all.'_ Damon undoubtedly concluded, furrowing his brows. He bet that she wasn't even fully aware of what she was doing. _'Elena can't stand the likes of me.'_

He hoped she understood that the sap in the elevator last night, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, was _not _Damon Salvatore… not in the _least_… not anymore. He'd buried that side of himself a _long _time ago. And it didn't matter; he knew exactly the kind of person he was now. Living up to expectations was easy when the bar was set so goddamn low. Everyone expected him to be merciless, arrogant and irredeemable, so that's exactly the kind of person he became.

Did he like what he had turned into? _Hell yes. He had the face, the fame and the fortune._

Was he _happy_ about it? …He didn't even know the _meaning_ of the word _happiness_.

So regardless of their so-called "truce", he knew deep down that Elena still _hated_ "Damon The Autocrat", the one to stride through the halls like blue-blooded royalty, the one to throw punches in blind fury, the one to make life a living hell for _everybody_, most especially for her. He knew that _that_ was the real him, the one that would resurface the second he'd step foot at The Falls.

But she was still Elena, the "do-gooder", the type of person to give out hugs like they were going out of style. It was a foolish trait of hers he found completely endearing.

The feeling of her embrace was incomparable. So much so that, for a moment, it completely slipped Damon's mind that Elena was supposed to hate him.

It was too perfect a moment, one he honestly knew he didn't deserve… which is why he held his breath, thinking that if he let out even the smallest wisp of air, the scene would shatter.

* * *

><p>Elena thought it was crazy, how natural it felt to hug Damon. She was suspended in temporary bliss until she felt Damon's muscles stiffen seconds into her hug. He was clearly uncomfortable.<p>

Her gut wrenched at the subtle rejection. She felt like she'd overstepped the line he'd just drawn in the sand. It was that thin line that separated them from indifference and from friendship. _'Riiight,'_ Elena thought, _'Just because he proposed the diplomatic solution doesn't mean he proposed a friendship...'_

* * *

><p>Elena pulled away before Damon could wrap his brain around the fact that she was hugging him, and that he was <em>supposed<em> to… that, by standards of a "hug", he was _expected_ to… hug her back. She pulled away before his arms could wrap around her, and hold her, and keep her there.

She tightly crossed her arms in an attempt to appear aloof, one that did little to hide the shade of pink coloring her cheeks.

'_God, I feel stupid…'_ "Sorry-my bad-that was a little too much… but handshakes are too formal for my taste. I'm a hugger…" she babbled with an awkward laugh.

Damon was at a loss on how to react, this girl was giving him whiplash. _'But she is kind of cute when she's all flustered.'_

He drew in a breath and gave her a smug smile.

Elena plastered a smile on her face but rolled her eyes inwardly. _'Ugh, I'd wipe that smug smirk off your face if it didn't look so damn good…' _

She turned on her heel and managed to take two steady steps away from him when he called after her again.

"Get home _safe_, Elena." Damon reiterated. Though he meant for the words to sound standoffish, they fell from his lips, laced with concern.

She bit back a smile but continued on walking, refusing to turn back and face him.

* * *

><p><em>And then she did something. She <em>_**always**__ did something._

* * *

><p>"Tell Alfred that Elena says hi and that she'd love to meet him sometime," she called out behind her. "And tell him to drive <em>safely<em>!"

Then she gave him one last glance, one last smile, before rounding the corner.

* * *

><p><em>Damon watched Elena pensively from the concealment of his tinted stretch limo. He watched her look to her right then to her left, despite the street being nearly empty. He watched her cross the pedestrian lane, her hair fluttering softly behind her and the most innocent of smiles gracing her features.<em>

* * *

><p>Damon's breath caught in his throat.<p>

'_Got it.'_

* * *

><p><em>Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.<em>

Elena swallowed nervously. _'Breathe, Elena.'_ With each passing second, she felt like she was sinking deeper into the moth-eaten sofa. She looked to the clock, then to the scuffed, wooden floor, then to the striped, red scarf on her lap. It was a little damp and the wool was beginning to unravel at the edges, and now it smelled like _him_.

Elena looked everywhere besides infuriated visage of her aunt.

Jenna, hair a mess and eyes bloodshot, stood sternly before her niece. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, the works… Jenna was _furious_.

"God, I never thought I'd have to give this speech," she began monotonously. "Especially not to _you _of all people.

Are you _aware_ of what _time_ it is, Elena? I mean I get it, you're seventeen; you want to go out. But was I so wrong to think you'd have the _decency_ to call? For God's sake, I would've even settled for a measly text message! Do you realize that you were gone the _entire_ _night_? I was going _insane_ with worry; _Jeremy_ was on the verge of knocking on every door in the building!"

Jenna's voice had slowly risen to a yell. Elena cringed but took the verbal blows anyway, her only response, a whispered "sorry".

"I even called Caroline," she sighed, plunking down on the couch next to Elena. "_Twice._ She said you suddenly bolted off to God-knows-where," Jenna turned towards her, concern etched all over her face and in her tired eyes. It made her look years older than she actually was. "She said you may have gone to see some guy from The Falls... Last night, 'Lena, did he-"

At that Elena shot up to her feet, shaking her head vigorously. "No, Aunt Jenna, that is_ not_ what happened _at all_! We were getting a cup of tea, just _tea_! We got stuck in an elevator, a-and there was no reception, and-"

Jenna narrowed her eyes but held up a hand to stop her. "_Later._ Spill the story later. 'Cause if you don't start getting ready for school right _now_, you're going be _late_, and you are going to hate yourself tomorrow."

Elena groaned and dramatically collapsed back down on the sofa. "I'm fine with self-loathing…"

"The clock's ticking, 'Lena. I'll start the coffee."

"Stupid scholarship," Elena muttered before dragging herself towards her room.

Jenna smirked, tipping in the last bit of the coffee grounds. "Oh, you know you love it… and by the way, you're grounded!"

* * *

><p>Elena yawned. Sleep-deprivation, chastisement and very bitter coffee made for one cranky girl. She could barely keep her head up and her eyes from closing as she made her way to the banquet hall. Even the soft padding of her feet against the carpet-lined floors was lulling her to sleep.<p>

Though, upon seeing a small crowd of huddled students, her eyes flew open. Narrowing her eyes and readjusting her navy blazer, Elena strode towards the horde.

'_What could it be today? A forged letter? A doctored photo of me committing a felony? A bogus document of a supposed abortion?'_

As she drew nearer, Elena realized they were crowding over a large poster displayed on the doors of the banquet hall. She braced herself.

People gasped and whispered once they caught sight of her. Elena was baffled by the way students would avert their gaze and shyly step aside to let her pass. Being shoved and taunted was second-nature to her now. The moment she got a look at the tarp that hung before her, Elena's eyes grew wide. The drowsiness and lethargy she felt just seconds ago had flown out the window; she was _fully_ awake now.

There, hung up for the entire world to see, was a six-foot tall tarpaulin banner, a blown-up photograph of Damon, his back turned, and Elena, on the tips of her toes, her arms wrapped around him in what looked like an intimate embrace.

Still wide-eyed, Elena gulped. For _this_, she was not prepared.

'_This could be much, much worse…' _As soon as that thought popped into her head, the tell-tale _clack, clack, clack_ of three pairs of Oxfords reverberated through the halls. _Gulp._

With that and with the skin prickling at the back of her neck, Elena knew _he_ was there. She stiffened and shuddered when his silky voice broke the tense silence.

"Who died?"

"Wha- nooooo way!" Tyler hooted, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. "Holy crap. Ric, check this out."

Alaric ran a hand through his hair, drank in the image before him and whistled. "Damon, man, what the hell…? Is this legit?"

Elena slowly turned to look at Damon who slowly walked towards the tarp and ran his eyes over it once.

"No, it's-" Elena's voice came out strangled.

"Yeah," Damon turned towards The Archetypes and Elena with a face void of emotion, "It is."

A flurry of gasps, breaths and "oooohs" swept across the crowd. Elena's mouth fell open.

"End of story… It's _lunch _time, isn't it." Damon spoke, looking back at the poster. At once, the group dispersed and poured into the banquet halls. Elena stayed still.

"This day is just getting weirder and weirder… C'mon, Ric," Tyler grinned, slapping his friend on the back, "I'm starving."

Alaric mirrored his grin and punched Damon on the shoulder before following Tyler into the banquet hall, making Damon smile a little.

"They're loons," he said, leaning towards Elena. "But they grow on you."

Elena tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know what this is," she said flatly, tilting her head towards the poster.

"Paparazzi," he stated matter-of-factly. "The word means "annoying bug" in Italian, you know. In my opinion, they're more like leeches. Don't dwell on this, they've taken _much_ worse pictures of me."

Elena was taken aback. _'Who was this cute, consoling guy and what did he do to Damon Salvatore?'_

Damon turned his whole body towards her and smirked. Elena could swear something was different about him but she just couldn't put her finger on what it was. She crossed her arms and stared at him, trying to figure it out.

She erupted into a fit of laughter when she finally did.

Damon crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "That took a while…"

"You're we-wearing," Elena began, clutching her stomach, "You're wearing The Falls' uniform?"

"Ding ding! We've got a winner," he replied dryly.

"…Why?"

Damon would never admit that donning the school's lame-ass uniform was his first attempt to _change_. He'd never admit that her embrace had crushed his resolve to shut out his emotions, to not feel, how seeing that photograph of them fortified, even more, his willingness to be the better man for her, the man she deserved.

"I just felt like it today…" He shrugged, "Sue me, Elena."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I just never thought I'd live to see the day. There's still something off though…" Elena looked him up and down once more. He had the blazer over the polo, though the sleeves were pushed back. He had the black pants and the black Oxfords... "Oh, you forgot the tie."

"Cut me some slack, hall monitor. If you've forgotten, I was _kind of_ running late today."

"Hey, so was I, if _you've_ forgotten… What does punctuality have to do with your tie?"

He groaned. "There wasn't any time to have my stylist put it on, alright... Tell me, do you get some weird pleasure from nitpicking or something?"

Elena couldn't hide her smile. _'He's deflecting.'_ "Let me guess, you don't know how to _tie_ a tie either."

Damon tapped his foot testily.

"Give it here."

"Wha-"

"Don't be more callow than you already are, Damon."

Without another word, he slipped his hand into his pocket in a smooth motion, pulled out a pristine navy tie and held it out to her. Elena pulled at the silk, slipping it from his grasp. Their eyes met and locked as she took a step closer to him.

Elena looped the tie around his neck. Long gone was the ability to tear her eyes away from his.

"I have a little brother that couldn't tie a half-Windsor knot for his life," she said softly, the memory filling her with nostalgia.

Elena was a walking contradiction and Damon knew it's what drew him in, like how she could throw the meanest punch yet still have the finesse to loop a piece of silk around his neck. Standing so close to her, wanting nothing more than to call her his, Damon was _sure_ this was the one girl he'd try to be _better _for.

Elena tightened the knot, drew it up to his collar and took a step back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

Damon blinked once, rolled his shoulders and grinned. "So, how does The Falls look on me?"

Elena tilted her head as a small smile lit up her face.

"Better."

* * *

><p>Elena yanked the cream-colored chiffon curtains back, filling the lavish room with light.<p>

"You're missing _a lot_ at the falls, Katherine," she reasoned tiredly.

Katherine threw a pillow over her head. "I have enough drama in my life, thank you," she replied in a muffled voice.

Elena rolled her eyes. "I meant that _schoolwork_-wise." She picked her messenger bag up from the floor and dumped the contents on Katherine's queen-sized canopy bed. "You're falling behind in Chemistry, Trigonometry, French…"

Katherine gave a whimper from under the thick comforters. "I don't want to go back, Elena. Who knows what they'll do to me? And I can't even imagine running in to _him_... into _them_."

"But he said he'd take them back," Elena coaxed, "Our red notices, Damon revoked them."

Katherine threw down the covers, sat up and narrowed her eyes skeptically. "You're lying."

"Nope," Elena beamed, "We made a truce."

"Damon _Salvatore_… make a truce? That's weird." Katherine said suspiciously. "How'd _that_ happen."

Elena sat on the eccentric chair by Katherine's bed and picked at the lace embroidered comforter. "Long story short, he's not as bad as I thought he was." Lost in her own thoughts, Elena was oblivious to the intrigued expression Katherine wore.

When Elena looked up, she could've sworn she saw a look of resentment quickly flit across Katherine's face. Then again, it could've just been a trick of the light.

"Are you _sure_ it's okay to go back to The Falls?" Katherine asked meekly.

Elena smiled and gave a reassuring nod. "I'm sure."

* * *

><p>Tyler staggered towards the leather couch in Damon's den, the bourbon nearly spilling from its glass. "I'm hammered," he belched throwing his head back. "I'm really gonna hate myself tomorrow."<p>

"You're too narcissistic to hate yourself," Ric chortled aiming a dart at the bullseye.

A poker chip flew past Alaric's head, and another, and another.

Ric snorted. "You're aim's way off when you're drunk."

"Ha! If you need to pee, Ty, pee in the bushes." Damon interjected, focused on his game of Solitaire.

Ric snorted again and on cue, another poker chip sailed over his head. "Quit it, Ty. I'm holding a dart, keep throwing those at me and I'll throw a dart back at you."

Tyler made a face and took a long gulp of whiskey. "So Damon, you fucking serious about this Gilbert girl… or are you just fucking her?"

Damon clenched his jaw and furrowed his brows, never looking up from his card game.

Ric turned to Damon with a raised brow. "But at the end of the day, you'll still have to go with the girl your dad chooses for you, right?"

"Well, what better use is there for a son other than a pawn for a company merger?" Damon replied sarcastically.

"So if it gets too serious between you and Elena," Ric contemplated.

Tyler set his glass down on the mahogany. "She's the one who's gonna get hurt in the end."

Damon gathered the cards and shuffled them over and over again.

"I'm not gonna hurt her," he said simply.

"What..." the two said in unison.

"I'd never hurt Elena," he repeated sincerely. Damon turned towards them, eyes shooting daggers. "And Ty, I'm not _fucking _her. She's not that kind of girl."

Tyler held his hands up in defense. "Jeez... sorry, man, but you spent an _entire _night with her though, right?" he replied in disbelief.

"Yeah, we slept together... in the most innocent sense of the phrase. No fucking, no sex. That night was probably the only one I'll never forget. It's like, like I can't get her out of my head, but when she's right in front of me I act like a total ass. I know, I know. She deserves the good guy and who are we kidding, that _isn't_ me. But guys, she makes me want to _change_; she makes me _want _to be the good guy."

Damon exhaled.

"Dude…"

He threw on his leather jacket, grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

"Where you headed off to, Damon? Gonna go "blow off some steam"?"

* * *

><p><em>"I need to blow off some steam."<em>

_Tyler and Ric watched Damon get up, grab his keys and go. They exchanged a glance._

_Damon lost himself in the blind fury, swinging his fists where he saw fit. Mere _minutes_ had passed and his chest rose and fell as he surveyed the three men that lay, beaten and unconscious on the ground._

* * *

><p>Damon reeled back a little at the insinuation. "No... I'm gonna be that guy for her."<p>

"Dude!"

Damon turned the doorknob and looked over his shoulder one last time.

"...I think you're whipped."

* * *

><p>AN: Drunk Tyler is brutally honest. :-)

Am I the only one who thinks a girl trying her guy's tie really, really sweet?

And lol, the paparazzi be trollin' all over Damon! Hahaha!

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	12. THE ONLY GIRL HE APPROVES OF

**CHAPTER 12 - THE ONLY GIRL HE APPROVES OF**

There was a beat of silence then Elena heard muffled giggles from the other end of the line.

"Oh my _god_!" Caroline squealed.

Elena nearly dropped the receiver. "Caroline, calm down!"

"Wait, okay… You guys were stuck in an elevator the entire night and he didn't try any funny business, then he admitted he liked you but he was supposedly "half-awake", then you fell asleep in each other's arms. Come morning, you guys hugged and when proof of that hug was made public, he didn't freak out..."

"Yeah, so wha-"

Caroline's giggles poured through the phone.

"Lemme guess, 'Lena. For the first time, he was in complete, head-to-toe school uniform too."

"How did you-"

"Elena," Caroline began with a dreamy sigh, "The Tore is so into you." She enunciated each word, stringing them together as if she'd just formed the most obvious sentence in the world.

Elena was rendered speechless.

"Double date, double date, double date!" Caroline chanted merrily.

Elena rubbed her temples. "No chance in hell, Care. Our relationship isn't like that…"

Caroline squealed. "All I heard was "our relationship"! It sounds pretty intimate to me-e."

"Give me a break," Elena scoffed.

"Well it is… different… to be talking about you and The Tore now, though. I mean we always used to fantasize about you and Stefan ending up together."

_'Stefan?'_

Elena impulsively tucked a stray hair behind her ear then pulled open her bed-side drawer. She picked up Stefan's handkerchief and let out a small breath.

* * *

><p><em>"Your drive to keep going- I really like that about you. A lot of people only wish they could have your kind of strength," he said sincerely.<em>

_And that was when Stefan leaned down and kissed Elena's forehead._

* * *

><p>Caroline cleared her throat. "…Unless you haven't really gotten over that knight-in-shining-white-armor of yours…"<p>

"He… left, Care. He's long gone," Elena spoke, her voice breaking slightly.

"Not to sound awfully cliché, but did he take your heart with him?..." Caroline let out a tiny breath when it took Elena too long to reply.

"You know, 'Lena, if you wanna know where your heart really is, just look to where your mind goes when it wanders."

Elena closed her eyes and nodded; she wished it were that simple. "So tell me; when did my best friend get so philosophical?"

"Oh, please. You know I'm the blonde, modern-day hybrid of Confucius and Cupid… Oh fine, I'll admit I got that from a fortune cookie; we ordered Chinese take-out for dinner… yet again."

Elena laughed.

"Elenaaa," Jenna hollered from the living room, "Could you come out here for a second."

* * *

><p>"Sorry I took a while; Caroline just <em>cannot<em> put the receiver down…" Elena bellowed, padding down the hall towards her aunt. "Aunt Jenna, it's a bit early for dinner, don't you thi-"

Elena froze mid-sentence the second she stepped foot in the living room. Because lounging comfortably on her sofa, his back turned to her, was the one and only Damon Salvatore. She was sure it was him. His sharp, jet-black ensemble and his perfectly tousled hair looked severely out of place, seated on a couch the color of rotting squash.

Hearing her voice, Damon turned his head and Elena was faced with the clearest baby blue of his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>She was a bit taken aback by what she saw in his powder-blue eyes, innocence, hesitation, and a hint of desire.<br>_

* * *

><p>And despite her conviction nearly being reduced to a puddle because of them, Elena still found the ability to form a coherent sentence.<p>

"Damon. What are you doing here?"

Jenna shot up from the couch, her hands up in appeasement. "It's okay, Elena! Uhh… _Mr. Salvatore_ just dropped by to take responsibility and to properly apologize for you coming home at the crack of dawn yesterday."

The elder woman readjusted her glasses and straightened her blouse. "You failed to mention that you were with the son of the Salvatore Worldwide Financial Group that night," she said, sitting up straighter and smiling wider.

Elena glanced at Damon, who, with an amused expression, had busied himself with a piece of cake.

"The fact didn't seem mentionable," Elena muttered, causing Damon to roll his eyes.

The slam of a door made Elena swivel around. Jeremy bounded out wearing a big, goofy grin. "'Lena, you'll never believe this! Damon just scored me front row tickets to a _Kickflip_ concert!" he enthused, grabbing her by the elbows.

"Hold up, Jer… what?" Elena asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Jeremy groaned and plopped down on the couch beside Damon. "_Kickflip_… just my favorite band whose concert tickets happen to cost a fortune."

Damon waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Don't worry about it, baby bro, the lead guitarist owes me a huge favor anyway."

Elena shot daggers at the black-clad Adonis. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?" Without waiting for his response, she strode over to the couch and hauled Damon by the arm towards the front door. She gave Jenna and Jeremy an apologetic smile before shutting the door, taking a breath and facing him.

"Mmm, I'd almost forgotten the taste of home-baked cake," Damon smirked, licking the chocolate off his fingers.

"_Kickflip_, huh?" Elena looked up at him and crossed her arms. Even in the dimly lit apartment hallway, Damon could see the accusation in her eyes.

"My brother," she sighed, "has inexplicable amounts of faith in people."

* * *

><p><em>"Woah, that's seriously every-single-person-in-the-world's dream school! Can't believe my big sis is gonna go to school at The Falls," Jeremy said, his arms folded on the banister, a faraway look in his eyes. "Do the best you can, okay 'Lena!"<br>_

* * *

><p>"I love and hate that about him," she smiled softly, "but he trusts people way to easily, and that kid's had more than his share of empty promises." Elena mused, averting her eyes.<p>

"Empty promises? I will get him the ticket-" Damon started, confused as to what she was implying.

"Damon, what are you _really_ doing here?" she asked again, her tone weary.

The look of distrust in her eyes filled him with hurt and anger; he could see that she was wary of his intentions. Damon knew he had yet to earn her trust… but Elena was oblivious to the fact that he was _trying_. And_ that_ hurt.

"Contrary to your beliefs, Elena, I don't have a hidden agenda," he spoke, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. "Just like your aunt said, I came to get you off the hook for coming home at the crack of dawn the other day. If you'd take two seconds to stop looking at me like I just killed a puppy, you'd see that I'm _trying_ to do the right thing here!"

He sighed, took a step back and sank to the ground with his back against the wall. 'I'm trying to be the good guy.'

Elena bit her lip and sat down across from him. She sighed and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Look, I'm sorry. You deserve a thank you," she said in a sincere, guilt-laced whisper.

He lifted his head and gave a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe I would? …do the right thing, I mean."

"I think my family and your family… have completely different values. Honestly, I'd have never expected you to drop by so suddenly like that to… to apologize on my behalf."

Damon let his gaze fall away from her to hide the look of hurt that skimmed across his features. But when Elena gave an adorable little laugh, he couldn't help but look up at her and smile. "What?…"

"You've got chocolate cake on your face," Elena grinned.

"Ahhh, now I get why you couldn't take me seriously…" he scoffed. "Your aunt's chocolate cake is just to_ die_ for," he said with a faux dramatic accent.

"Ha! Nice try. Aunt Jenna can barely boil water; the cake's store-bought. Here…" Elena dug around her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief then tilted Damon's face towards her. She could feel his eyes on her as she gently swiped the cloth by the corner of his lip.

"There," she gulped, bringing her hands and her gaze to her lap.

"That's... Stefan's isn't it?" Damon asked monotonously, gesturing towards the handkerchief in Elena's hand.

* * *

><p><em>And all it took was that one second of hesitation for Stefan to swoop in. He knelt beside Elena and offered her his handkerchief.<em>

_"Thank you," she whispered._

* * *

><p>She simply nodded, at a loss for words. "I didn't get a chance to return it before he- uh- it slipped my mind to get it back…"<p>

Damon tilted his head, his brows knitting together. "And you're still carrying it with you like... you expect to see him around." He got up from the floor, walked a few steps away from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Elena, do you- do you like Stefan?"

Elena felt her heart sink to her stomach at his question. "Damon, he-"

"Even if he's off chasing Lexi," he murmured, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Even then, are you still in love with him?" He stood still, waiting for her answer, his head hung low and his back turned to her.

She stood up and exhaled. "I…. it has nothing to do with you," she said softly.

Damon turned towards her, disappointment etched all over his face. "That's a lie and you know it."

Elena dropped her gaze in shame. "Damon, why are you being like this? It doesn't matter. Even if I did like Stefan, it wouldn't matter. He has Lexi and they're _perfectly_ meant for each other; you know that," she said weakly, playing with her hands.

It took Damon three smooth steps to stand before her. He looked down at her, his eyes brimming with emotion and his voice thick. "Elena, what you feel matters." He gently took her face between his hands and gave her a sad smile. "Believe me. If you're seriously in love with Stefan, he'll end up falling for you too. It's inevitable."

'_You're her, the 100% perfect girl,"_ Damon thought,_ "Sadly, Stefan realized that first.'_

"You, Elena, are the only girl I approve of.

_'I don't deserve you. But my brother does.'_

And as Damon wordlessly and reluctantly dropped his hands and rounded the corner, walking out of Elena's line of sight; she could only watch him leave, the ghost of his touch cradling her face. Her thoughts were racing to keep up with the ceaseless beating of her heart as she was left standing in the hallway, lost, confused and feeling above all… alone.

* * *

><p>Elena pulled the door closed with a soft click then leaned her forehead on the oak, taking a few seconds to compose herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned around in time to see her aunt kick the refrigerator door shut and set a pint of ice-cream on the kitchen counter. Jenna looked up, blew the hair out of her eyes and looked at her niece. "Wanna talk?"<p>

Elena tried, to no avail, to muster a smile as she rummaged through the drawer for a couple of spoons.

Jenna leaned on the counter and carefully watched Elena, flushed and moving about in a daze. "Sweetie, I'm the last person who should be giving you unsolicited relationship advice… but _that _boy is serious about you."

Elena looked away from her aunt and with a shrug of her shoulders said, "I don't think that's so," speaking with such conviction, she almost fooled herself.

_Almost._

* * *

><p>As her Chemistry professor rambled on and on about an extra-credit assignment, Elena couldn't help but glance at the empty seat behind her.<p>

_'I guess Katherine skipped out on school… again.'_ Elena's brows furrowed. It was unhealthy for a person to miss so many classes, hiding-out in the four corners of her room. And just the thought that Katherine's self-destruction could be blamed on a fear of The Archetypes put Elena in a bad mood.

But as the bell rang, a group of girls with perfectly styled hair, prominently polished fingernails and ear-to-ear grins bombarded her. "'Lenaaa! You didn't forget about tonight right?"

Elena raised a brow, "Uhh, tonight?"

"Yeah, you promised to go _clubbing_ with us!" they squealed. Elena grimaced. She didn't recall ever agreeing to any invitation to go clubbing, nor did she even recall any of these girls' names. But _'Oh, to hell with it,'_ she thought. She'd been feeling crappy lately and she could very much use a night of reckless fun.

"Count me in."

* * *

><p>"Are we there yet?" Tyler drawled, tapping incessantly on the dashboard.<p>

With a curled lip, Alaric swatted his friend's hand away from the surface of his beloved car. "Yeah, this is the place." he said pulling his Mercedes-Benz to the curb. "It's the pâtisserie on the left."

Tyler snorted. "Just say _bakery_ like a normal person, brainiac."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a damned human thesaurus... Remind me again why we here?"

"Were doing a background check on Elena Gilbert... duh. C'mon, if she's _the one_, the girl Damon's gonna fall head-over-heels for, we gotta know _everything_ about her. We're his best friends and he deserves to know exactly what he's getting into."

"Riiight... you, my friend, have _gotta _write a book on this stuff someday," Alaric chuckled cutting off the ignition.

* * *

><p>Caroline's eyes widened as she wiped down the glass cupcake display. "YOU'RE GOING CLUBBING? Tonight? Aw man, I can't! I'm working tonight. Ugh, I'm jealous as hell, you know that right..."<p>

The bell above the quaint little bakery gave a cheery little ring and the blonde gave a little jump. "Oh, it's a customer. I'll call you later, 'Lena!" Caroline quickly slipped her phone into her apron pocket and whirled towards the glass door. "Welc-"

"Hi, do you happen to know an Elena Gilbert?" Tyler asked straight-out, flashing his most charming smile.

Caroline put a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. "Who's asking?"

Tyler turned his head and raised a brow at Ric, who shrugged his shoulders, grinned and mouthed "sassy" in reply.

"Tyler Lockwood, The Falls football captain, infamous billionaire-playboy-heartbreaker with a little spoiled-son-of-a-politician stereotype going on," Tyler recited, crossing his toned arms and raising a haughty brow.

Unimpressed and slightly repulsed, Caroline raised a brow in return. "Pleasure to meet you," she said dryly. "How do you know Elena?"

Alaric took the opportunity to step in the middle of and subdue the intense staring contest going on between the two. "Ric Saltzman," he said, extending his hand, "Elena's a friend of a friend."

Caroline swiped both her hands on the front of her apron and shook his tentatively, putting the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind. "You… must be _The Archetypes_."

"And you're Caroline Forbes, Elena's_ best_ friend, the one person who probably knows her more than she knows herself," Tyler drawled, still irked and a little confounded as to why this Caroline Forbes had not yet begun to fawn over him.

"How do you-" Caroline began, her eyes widening.

"We just want to talk," Ric cut in, "It concerns Elena… transitively making it _your_ concern."

"Fine," Caroline acceded, the worried-protective-friend-side getting the best of her. "But I can't just up and leave work. You guys are just gonna have to wait 'til my shift's over."

Tyler groaned audibly and walked over to her. "Call your boss," he demanded with a huff.

Caroline made a face but did as he asked, scrolling through her contacts for the bakery owner's name. With an extremely bored expression, Tyler extended his hand. She rolled her eyes and passed him her cellphone just before her boss picked up.

"Hello, this is Mr. Lockwood speaking. No, not Richard… not Mason… _Tyler_ Lockwood. I would like you to relieve Ms. Forbes of her duties at the bakery today."

Before the man could utter a word of protest, Tyler sealed the deal.

"Everything… I'll purchase _every single thing_ in your establishment.

Yes, put it all on my tab.

MasterCard.

No, thank _you_."

Tyler snapped the phone shut, handed it back to Caroline with a smirk then adjusted his coat. "I don't _wait_," he muttered to her before turning around and walking out of the bakery.

"Hmph,_ tactless_," Caroline muttered in reply, shooting daggers at Tyler's back.

Ric chuckled and looked at Caroline with an amused expression. "Excuse him. He's just pissed 'cause he's used to automatically being drooled over by every air-headed bimbo out there. He's got a strong personality but by the looks of it, so do you." he grinned teasingly. "I think you've just given him a run for his money." He motioned to the door. "After you."

Caroline swept the stray curls of blonde hair out of her face and let out a breath.

'_Yeah, this should be fun...'_

* * *

><p>AN: YES, I AM ALIVE! Sorry for updating after 9237218631123 years! But it's summer vacation for me now and I _promise_ to update more often!

Ooh, that handkerchief's been _trouble_. Damon's laid a lot out on the table but could Elena still have feelings for Stefan?

AND YAY! THE FIRST TASTE OF TYLINE GOING ON HERE! But this is still a Delena-centric story, just putting in some hints of Tyline to freshen things up a bit. :-)

Left you guys kind-of-hanging here but that just means_ lots_ of things are gonna go down in Chapter 13! :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	13. INTENTIONS, INTENTIONS

**CHAPTER 13 - INTENTIONS, INTENTIONS**

Though Elena hadn't been to a nightclub in a _long_ time, the ambiance hadn't changed much from what she recalled. The erratic strobe lights were hypnotically blinding; the aggressive bass beats fell in sync with the thumping of her heart and the air was thick with the smell of booze and cigarettes. Yet, _of course, this_ nightclub was high-end; Elena could tell by the fact that there were no frat boys or sobbing drunkards. Instead, the black leather booths were filled with well-dressed men who had fat cigars hanging from their mouths and obscenely dressed women draped on their arms.

And as the girls from The Falls, in their metallic micro mini-skirts and six-inch stilettos, clinked their cocktails, Elena couldn't help but feel a bit insecure in a simple black dress. "Here's to The Archetypes!" one of them slurred, raising her glass. Needless to say, Elena quickly went from sipping on club soda to downing shots of tequila, not even stopping to see what, or _who_, the girls began fussing and giggling over.

"Oh god, that guy over there is kinda hot… Scratch that; he's _really_ hot!"

"Is that… No way… Is that _Stefan Salvatore_?"

At the mere mention of him, Elena's ears perked up and she swiveled her head, refusing to believe it until she saw him with her very own eyes.

Across the dance floor, she could make out a figure leaning on the metal railings of the staircase, a head of short, caramel-colored hair stark against a spotless white polo. She took a step and nearly called out his name, but when he turned his face towards her, and her eyes adjusted to his features, she saw that it wasn't Stefan after all.

As he smiled at her and started to make his way towards their group, Elena promptly excused herself for the bathroom. She practically ran in the opposite direction, face flushed, feeling flustered yet unable to resist looking back just one more time.

* * *

><p>"I'm just saying that since Damon's kind of an amateur at this "love" thing… he's prone to get blinded by it," Alaric spoke, taking a sip of his Macchiato. "Damon and Elena as an <em>item<em>… I'm basically okay with it," he shrugged, leaning back on the wicker chair.

"I just wanna make sure Elena doesn't just pretend that she's interested in him. She can't lead him on like that," Tyler said, looking directly into Caroline's eyes.

"I think… that it's between the two of them," she answered firmly. Caroline would never admit that deep down, she felt intimidated by The Archetypes and that, in spite of a slight fear of them, she wanted to appear tough. Her light, easygoing personality didn't make that easy, and it didn't help in the least that she was freezing in the cool, open breeze. (In her defense, she didn't expect to leave the toasty warmth of the bakery nor did she expect Alaric and Tyler to choose an _outdoor_ bistro table.) She rubbed her hands together subtly. "It's not for other people to butt in."

Tyler's brows drew together at her words. She was so stubborn and he wanted so badly to be pissed at her but that whole _"bubbly Barbie"_ thing she had going on just made it impossible… not to mention the annoyingly endearing fact that, though she was obviously freezing right now, she refused to appear vulnerable in any way.

Groaning inwardly at what he was about to do, Tyler shrugged off his Armani coat and held it out to her, making sure to flex every muscle in his arm as he did so.

Caroline gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering then shook her head adamantly. "I'm fine."

Ric watched the exchange with a raised brow then cleared his throat. "Caroline, we wouldn't be here if we thought that Damon was just messing around, as per usual. But this could get serious and it might cause… problems later on."

"_Problems_ meaning one or both of them could end up _hurt_," Tyler muttered grouchily putting his coat back on. "And a _hurt_ Damon is a _destructive_ Damon."

"For his own good, and hers too, we're just trying to make sure that she doesn't break him."

"Do you _understand_?" Tyler asked testily. His tone made Caroline feel like a child being lectured.

_That_ pissed her off. "No, _you _don't understand," Caroline spat, pushing her chair back with a screech. "You don't know anything about Elena. She's not cruel; she's not in the business of '_breaking people'__**,**_ unlike _The Archetypes_. It seems like you guys would know a lot about _that_."

Alaric, in disbelief and mouth slightly agape, could only watch Caroline walk briskly away from them. As he stood up to go after her, Tyler stopped him with a "Don't bother, Ric…"

"Jeez," Tyler groaned slapping a few bills on the table, running a hand through his hair and cringing. "I'm not good at all with girls like _that._

* * *

><p>Instead of going to the restroom, Elena retreated to an isolated corner of the bar and set her head down on the cool marble of the counter. She was more than a little tipsy and she just needed a second or two to clear her head.<p>

In a slightly drunken daze, she languidly lifted her eyes. Her brown orbs widened in disbelief and she softly uttered a name in complete shock. "Katherine?"

Well, at least she _thought_ it was Katherine… _This_ girl was the farthest thing from meek, innocent Katherine. This girl had dark make-up, wore a leopard-print mini-dress and swayed her hips flirtatiously as she entered the club. The look of contempt she wore and the air of pompousness she exuded convinced Elena that it couldn't _possibly _be Katherine. _'There's no way.'_ She scoffed at the mere thought, resting her head in her hand and blaming alcohol for the burst of paranoia.

"Hey, there."

The voice was low, smoky and _dead_ sexy, and for a split second, Elena thought it was Damon. Oblivious to what the thought implied, Elena turned around to find that the disembodied voice belonged to the guy who bore a striking resemblance to Stefan. Up close, Elena could clearly see how he didn't look _exactly_ like the younger Salvatore. Although, if she squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side, it came eerily close.

His dimples deepened the wider he smiled. "I saw you from across the room and I was just about to come over and ask you if you wanted to go and grab a cup of coffee with me bu-"

Elena tucked her hair behind her ear. "Uh, no thanks. I came with friends."

Elena almost smiled with the adorable _faux-hurt_ face he made. "Ouch! Hey, rejection hurts y'know… Good thing I was raised not to give up so easily," He extended a steaming cup to her with a smile that could make a girl melt. "You'll thank me for this tomorrow, tipsy."

'_Charming...'_ Elena thought, taking the warm styrofoam cup. She held it up to her nose and inhaled the aroma of caffeine with a small moan. "..thank you."

He tapped his cup against hers and in a smooth motion, slid into the bar stool to her right. "Cheers to waking up tomorrow _without_ a hang-over."

Elena took a long gulp of the rich, bitter brew then sighed contentedly. "So is this how you normally pick up girls at clubs?"

"Nah, I only buy coffee for the pretty ones."

'_You really are just like Stefan,' _Elena thought with a sad smile, _'…implausibly nice to me.'_

And as the coffee ran down her throat, the caffeine making its way to her brain, Elena woke up. It suddenly dawned on her that… she loved Stefan. She loved him because he was the first person to show her sympathy. She loved him because he stuck up for her when no one else dared to. She loved him because, in a school where she was ignored and hated, he was _implausibly_ nice to her.

He was her most treasured friend, but she loved him as that... and nothing more.

She slowly became aware of the fact that this guy seated beside her was good-looking and charming, was blatantly flirting with her, and looked like _Stefan Salvatore_… And then she became aware that despite it all, she didn't feel _anything_ towards him. Her heart didn't race, her skin didn't prickle, her throat didn't run dry… There was no spark.

* * *

><p><em>He got up from the floor, walked a few steps away from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Elena, do you- do you like Stefan?"<em>

* * *

><p>Elena realized she could finally answer Damon's question. As juvenile as it sounded, she did like Stefan… but she didn't <em>like-like<em> him.

She smiled to herself, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I have to-"

The second Elena hopped off the bar stool, the room began to spin. The guy rushed to her side, helping her stay on her feet. He glanced around the club slyly and Elena was only half-aware that he was guiding her somewhere, his hand on the small of her back. "It's okay. It's okay." he kept cooing, in a voice that could no longer be described as _dead sexy_ but as rough and menacing. She attempted to struggle away from him but, to her horror, she was beginning to see double. Overcome by head-wracking nausea and stripped of the ability to form a coherent thought, not once did it even enter Elena's mind to scream for help. That was when sheer panic set in, closely followed by dread.

She was hopelessly lost in a haze of erratic strobe lights, aggressive bass beats, booze and cigarettes. And this was the only thing running through her mind before she fell into the inescapable, black abyss of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Elena awoke with a start, flanked by pristine white sheets and fluffy pillows. "Oh <em>god<em>, it was all a dream," she muttered, swiping a hand across her eyes. She let out a lazy yawn and set her head back down on the pillow. As she willed herself to back to sleep, she let her half-lidded eyes focus on the room's intricate wallpaper design. Just as she was about to drift off, she shot up once more, eyes wide as saucers.

'_Paisley wallpaper…plush, red armchairs… thick beige carpet… __**penthouse**__ view…'_ Elena gulped. She was in a hotel room. _'Heels strewn on the carpet…' _she noted, dreadfully. Worse... she'd _spent the night_ in a hotel room.

Forehead creasing with the inability to recall _a single thing_ after blacking out last night, Elena readjusted her dress, pulling up the straps that had slipped off her shoulders. _'At least I'm still __**in**__ the dress…'_

Her _one_ night of reckless fun hadn't gone _at all_ as planned. The events of the previous night were a blur, and although she was _sure_ nothing promiscuous had happened, Elena could still feel the tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Waking up in a random hotel room with a vague memory of an unnamed guy and no knowledge _whatsoever_ of the night before made her feel _sleazy as hell_.

But she sucked it up,_ like she always did_, letting out a sharp breath and tilting her head back to keep the tears from falling. She was not about to be late for school and she refused to show up with puffy, red eyes.

* * *

><p>Side-stepping the cracks on the sidewalk, just like when she was little, Elena slowly made her way to The Falls. Thankfully, Aunt Jenna had easily believed her excuse "I slept over at a friend's house… a friend from The Falls… Katherine Pierce's house." Probably still guilty for yelling at her niece the last time she came home at dawn, Jenna let this one go. But as much as she tried to conceal it, Elena was still a bit shaken up and she practically froze in terror when she heard a voice that was low, smoky and <em>dead<em> sexy call out, "Hey there."

Damon got up from the curb, a few feet away from where she stood, and dusted off his hands. He approached her with a pensively stony expression which faltered the closer he got. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he said. It was his deflective, indirect way of asking if she was okay.

"You just… kinda spooked me," Elena swallowed, pulling at the messenger bag draped on her shoulder.

There was an awkward moment of silence then Elena spoke up. "Nice half-Windsor," she smiled crookedly, noticing he was now in complete head-to-toe school uniform, _tie_ included.

* * *

><p><em>Without another word, he slipped his hand into his pocket in a smooth motion, pulled out a pristine navy tie and held it out to her. Elena pulled at the silk, slipping it from his grasp. Their eyes met and locked as she took a step closer to him.<em>

_Elena looped the tie around his neck. Long gone was the ability to tear her eyes away from his._

* * *

><p>"I'm getting better at it," he smirked, adjusting the knot of navy silk.<p>

Damon was never good at putting his feelings into words. He wanted to say that as much as he wanted to keep his distance from her, he couldn't. He wanted to explain how the things she says and does affect him more than he lets on. He wanted to admit that he was sitting on this curb, waiting for _her_.

"Nice scarf."

Elena looked down at the worn, stripped wool looped around her neck, a flurry of emotions rushing back to her.

* * *

><p><em>Then she gently pulled her striped red scarf from her neck, running the fabric through her fingers. The scarf she remembered to be full of love, life and happiness. She wrapped it carefully around Damon's neck.<em>

* * *

><p>"Damon," she looked up at him, hoping her eyes would convey what mere words couldn't. "Do you think I could hitch a ride with you?"<p>

* * *

><p>Just the mere sight of Damon and Elena walking side by side made the bustling banquet hall fall completely silent. Damon walked, as he did before: with his chin up, his Oxfords clacking on the linoleum and a certain aura of superiority. However, as he walked next to Elena, there was an unmistakable air of <em>protectiveness<em>. And every time he would purposefully brush his arm up against hers, an onlooker's jaw would drop, Elena would slightly nudge him and he would suppress a smug, little grin.

Damon was halfway up the small, elegant staircase that led to the floor specially reserved for The Archetypes when he noticed Elena had stopped at the foot of the steps, at a loss for what to do.

"Hey," he called, causing her to look up at him with her big, innocent doe-eyes. Wordlessly, he pointed at himself, pointed at her, and then mouthed the word "lunch".

"_She's_ having lunch… with _The Archetypes?_!" Amber whined like an insolent child, slamming her tray down on a table. "Completely _unfair_!"

"You're making a scene, Amber!" Dana and Aimee hissed, embarrassed.

Elena bit the inside of her cheek and, much to his delight, followed him up the stairs. Alaric and Tyler looked at each other then sent tentative smiles in their direction. Damon nodded a hello to the guys, who stood up as he said, "Ric, Ty, you know Elena."

"Of course," Alaric smiled. "You're quite the lion tamer, Elena. You've got this one whipped." Tyler snorted earning a jab in the stomach. Elena bit back a smile.

Damon rubbed the back of his neck apologetically then pulled out one of the lavish chairs for her. Rolling up his sleeves and taking the seat next to her, he tilted his head towards the man in a toque. "He'll take any request; eat to your heart's content."

"There's really no need… I'm kind of all set," Elena assured, holding up her brown paper bag.

Damon sighed audibly and unveiled the dish already set before her, a beautifully-plated, perfectly-cooked lobster. "Humor me, Elena," he spoke, his voice like velvet. "I owe you this."

* * *

><p><em>And with a flick of his wrist, he slammed it to the ground. Her food was sent skidding across the linoleum.<em>

_She couldn't move. She stared at the lobster, now lying on the floor, the food she'd witnessed her aunt and brother preparing in the dead of night, just for her._

_Damon followed her gaze and with a ground-quivering stomp, left the lobster crushed under the sole of his shoe._

* * *

><p>Remembering the incident, Damon averted his eyes in shame. Elena flinched at the memory but then she reached out and touched his arm gently. She withdrew her hand just as quickly then took a whiff of the food. "It smells delicious."<p>

Damon could hardly focus on his own meal with Elena moaning and groaning in delight between forkfuls. She ate like it was an art, savoring each bite. She inadvertently turned him on; it was positively sinful.

Out of common courtesy, Elena pretended not to notice when Alaric cleared his throat and gave Damon a pointed look that snapped him out of his trance long enough for him to stop conspicuously drooling over her.

For that one hour, Elena was so immersed in the world of high-class food and high-class company; she hardly even noticed that Katherine had finally made a reappearance at The Falls, and that the meek brunette sat alone that lunch hour, her hands balled into fists and her _apples wedges a la peanut butter_ bitterly left untouched before her.

* * *

><p>Elena hoped that either the bright colors, the rambunctious children, or the sugar-filled frozen treats of the local ice cream parlor would cheer her up. When none of those things could, she whipped out her phone and hoped her best friend would.<p>

She took a spoonful of vanilla ice cream, and sighed dejectedly, "If The Archetypes find out… if _Damon _finds out, I'll be in _big _trouble."

"Lenaaa…" Caroline drawled, saying her name as if that in itself was an admonition. "Are you _a hundred percent_ sure nothing happened?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Elena enunciated, emphasizing each syllable. Her head throbbed just thinking about that fateful night.

Caroline swirled the chocolate ice cream around then switched her bowl for Elena's. "Listen, it may not be my place to say this... but you shouldn't play around with Damon's feelings."

"What?" Elena thought she'd heard her best friend wrong and took a spoonful of the chocolate ice cream then switched the bowls back. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" the blonde drummed her fingers on the table, trying to phrase her thoughts properly, "if you don't like him, you should just turn him down."

Elena laughed dryly. "But it's not even a matter of 'turning him down'… He doesn't like me that way, Care."

"_Don't_ do that. Don't pretend like you don't know," Caroline crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. "He likes you."

Elena put her spoon down and wiped the corner of her chin with the back of her hand.

"Lena, Damon's friends are seriously worried about you two."

"Care, those guys aren't the most trustworthy people… You'd better be careful."

Caroline shook her head sadly. "Look, you're right; I don't know much about them, but we share a good intention. They're just looking out for a friend… I am too." She switched the bowls of ice cream once more and looked up at Elena. "They told me some stories that got me thinking… it seems like Damon's just a really lonely person. He grew up with parents that coldly pushed him away, so his perceptions and values are warped because of it." Caroline picked up her purse, rummaged through it and set the cheap, plastic Batman action figure down on the table.

* * *

><p><em>Elena actually squealed when the claw got a hold of a Batman action figure.<em>

_The girls laughed as Caroline picked up the cheap piece of plastic._

_"Batman's hot," she concluded, lifting up the tiny mask and revealing the face underneath. "He's probably a messed-up and lonely guy though. I mean, he can never ever take the mask off, right? No one in the world would know he's really got two sides to him…"_

* * *

><p>"Somewhere in his heart, Elena, he just wants to be loved."<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Tell me what you think; I greatly appreciate _constructive_ criticism and little day-making notes. :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	14. UNA FOTOGRAFÍA

**CHAPTER 14 - ****UNA FOTOGRAFÍA**

Rounding the corner, Elena came face to face with an extremely infuriated Aimee. As usual, Amber and Dana stood directly behind her, their lips curled and their arms crossed prissily.

"Morning…" Elena greeted awkwardly, ducking her head in an attempt to skirt the trio.

The girls put their hands on their hips then moved to block Elena's way. Aimee looked her up and down then made a guttural sound of disgust. "You're the worst."

"You're _so _full of yourself, walking around campus like you're Damon's girl," Dana snarled with a flip of her hair.

Amber took a step towards Elena and narrowed her eyes venomously. "I can't believe it, that you're deceiving him like that."

Shrugging off their words, Elena linked her hands behind her back to keep them from balling into fists. "Look, girls, you're clogging up the halls with the stench of the utter filth that's spewing out of your mouths so, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to make it to class sometime this year." Elena rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, feeling pretty proud of her self-restraint, just to be yanked back viciously by her hair.

"Come with us, you little slut."

"Ow!" Elena yelped as Aimee dragged her off by her tresses. _'Oh, screw the high road!' _she thought, screaming obscenities and thrashing to get free from her grip. They reached all the way until the arch of the open banquet hall doors before Elena got to shove Aimee away with a livid "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Oh, just stop with the whole innocent act! Look for yourself!" Aimee screamed, pointing towards the middle of the room.

The students in the crowd shot Elena looks of contempt as they stepped aside, clearing a path. Every single person she made eye contact with turned their eyes away in sheer disgust. Elena was confounded. She hadn't been tyrannized like this since before Damon revoked her red notice; in fact, no one had gotten a red notice in weeks. Nonetheless, she kept her head up and her shoulders back. She felt stronger walking across the banquet hall this time around, knowing she'd made it through this whole ordeal before, knowing that, no matter what, she would never let them break her spirit.

Yet, unavoidably, Elena still felt that fleeting, heart-stopping dread when she reached the dead-center of the lavish foyer. For on the low platform, where The Archetypes' four eccentric chairs should've been, was a small table. And on the cloth that was draped over the table, written in elegant script, were the words:

_"For your pleasure, at your leisure."_

With a deep breath and a stroke of sheer will, Elena reached out and, in one swift motion, yanked the cloth right off the table. A handful of glossy photographs, only a few among the countless others, fell from the table and drifted slowly to Elena's feet. The banquet hall erupted in a frenzy of gasps, whispers and malicious giggles. Stunned, shaken, and shamed beyond belief, Elena could only stare at the array of prints, strewn across the surface. There were probably hundreds of copies of just one single shot: It was her, Elena, lying on a fancy bed, sound asleep. Her hair was tousled and the strap of her dress hung precariously off her shoulder. And lying beside her was a half-naked man, his arm wrapped around her sleeping figure lewdly.

"I-I…" Elena spun around, clutching her stomach. The tears were pricking her eyes and she felt like she was going to be sick.

Dana grabbed a handful of photos and flung them towards Elena's hunched figure. "You really are such a little slut," she spat viciously.

Elena shook her head, "I-It's not true." Her heart was thumping so hard, she could feel it in her throat.

"Oh, please! You weren't only deceiving Damon, you were deceiving everyone at The Falls! Just goes to show, Gilbert… once a low-life, always a low-life." Aimee scoffed, grabbing a fistful of Elena's hair once more. "Be prepared to drop-out."

"WHAT _THE HELL _IS GOING ON HERE?!" Damon's voice reverberated throughout the whole banquet hall in a tone that made everyone's blood run cold.

He was outraged, and that was an understatement. Solely from his stance, the look on his face and the fire in his eyes after he drank in the whole scene, students were tripping over one another to get out of his way. Though he walked determinedly towards Aimee, his every step, vehement, Damon's line of vision was glued to Elena, who he'd never, before that moment, seen so… disheartened.

Honest-to-God, just seeing her in that state made Damon's heart hurt; it made his chest feel way too tight. He admonished himself inwardly for being such a sap but he was already fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her. His look of heart-wrenching concern quickly transformed into one of pure wrath as he shifted his glare towards Aimee. His voice came out in a low, menacing growl. "Don't think you can get away with this. I will personally make your life a living he-."

Before he could even take a step in Elena's direction, Aimee held the photograph up to Damon's face with a resolute "Just look at this."

Elena knew she couldn't stop a tear from falling when she saw the pure, unconcealed hurt on Damon's face. He simply stood there for a couple seconds in utter dismay, like he'd just been hit with a ton of bricks. His jaw was clenched but his eyes were glazed over, as if the burning intensity that was there only moments ago was now completely extinguished.

"It's not true, Damon," Elena pleaded softly.

Damon wanted to let out a dry, bitter laugh. Who was he kidding? Elena wasn't his. How many times did he need to be reminded of that tiny, little fact? Just the image of her in bed with some sleazy guy made his blood boil. But he had no right to be angry, to be jealous. He didn't have a claim on her. _She wasn't his. _He was a glutton for pain, a true masochist. So he put his walls up and plastered on his signature mask of arrogant indifference… It was either that, or he'd simply fall to pieces. There's only so much hurt a man can take after all.

He wouldn't look her in the eye and that hurt Elena more than she'd ever admit.

His voice was void of any emotion. "What is this, Elena?"

"I have no idea! I think I'm being framed by someone, by someone who has something against me," she said, barely louder than a whisper.

He slowly drew his eyes up to meet hers, the feeling of betrayal etched in the icy blue. His expression was stone-cold and Elena couldn't take it. She reached her hand out, only for him to take a step back instinctively.

"Believe me," she said, the tears welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill over.

Without a single word, Damon dropped his gaze from hers then turned away, staggering slightly as he walked aimlessly out the banquet hall doors.

* * *

><p><em>And as Damon wordlessly and reluctantly dropped his hands and rounded the corner, walking out of Elena's line of sight; she could only watch him leave, the ghost of his touch cradling her face. Her thoughts were racing to keep up with the ceaseless beating of her heart as she was left standing in the hallway, lost, confused and feeling above all… alone.<em>

* * *

><p>And as the crowd broke into a fit of clapping and cheering, Elena was left standing alone at the center, overwhelmed by regret and her heart, a fault line from breaking.<p>

Even Katherine, who had seen the entire scene pan out, slowly joined in the applause as well.

All of a sudden, Elena found herself being shoved every which way. The room was spinning and all she could make out were navy blue blazers whichever way she looked. It was bad but Elena took all the kicks and punches. She took them all. Because she knew that even if Damon wouldn't show it, she'd wounded him badly. She was neck-deep in the guilt of _always _hurting him.

* * *

><p><em>The rain fell harder, beating down on him, but he remained still. She could make out his figure leaning on the clock tower, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. His head was bent down in complete and utter defeat, and his eyes were glued to the ground. He stood there, a broken man.<em>

* * *

><p>She couldn't deny it any longer. It seemed like she always did wrong by him. Around Damon, she was always too defensive, too guarded, too skeptical, too stubborn. So Elena braved every swing and every hit, because, in a way, she truly felt like she deserved it.<p>

* * *

><p>With a busted lip, scraped knees and a multitude of bruises, Elena was bordering consciousness as the students of The Falls dispersed. She sat up with a groan and struggled to catch her breath.<p>

Elena looked up and was surprised to see Katherine a few feet away from her, nervously wringing her hands with an empathetic look on her face. She scurried towards Elena and knelt beside her.

"Kat…" Elena breathed weakly, "You've... finally come back to school."

"Oh, don't worry about me… Are you okay?"

Elena gave a strong nod and, despite the stinging pain, pushed herself to her feet. "These... little scratches are no big deal…"

Katherine held Elena by the elbow, eying her as if she would come crumbling down any second. Elena leaned into the support of her friend then let out the sigh she'd been suppressing.

"What's up with him? That look he gave me… I mean, why- why couldn't he trust me?"

Katherine let go of Elena and began playing with her hands once more. "'Lena, maybe… maybe we should go see Damon. We can talk to him, make him understand…" She placed her hand firmly on Elena's shoulder. "We have to convince him that- that you're not the kind of girl who'd ever do something like that!"

Elena rubbed her sore arm, bit her lip then, to Katherine's satisfaction, nodded once more.

* * *

><p>Alaric held up a copy of Elena's promiscuous photo then cocked his head. "This is quite something…"<p>

Tyler gave out a whistle and agreed. "Yeah, it is…"

"No, you doof, what's interesting…" Ric flung the photo back onto the mahogany, got up and began pacing the carpeted floors of Damon's den. "…what's interesting is that _absolutely_ **un**satisfied look on Elena's face…"

"Ohh, I get what you mean!" Tyler said grabbing the print and squinting. "No girl ever has this expression after, y'know, doing the nasty…"

Ric put both hands on the backrest of Tyler's chair and drew his brows together in deep thought. "Something's just off about this whole thing..." He glanced over at Damon, who was standing in front of a window with a stoic expression on his face, one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around a glass of Scotch.

At that exact moment, Elena and Katherine came busting into the Salvatore den.

"You have a couple of guests, Mr. Salvatore," Alfred mused in a knowing tone, giving Damon a curt nod before stepping out of the den and closing the door behind him.

Elena took three quick steps towards Tyler, snatched the photograph out of his hands and shoved it into her messenger bag, crumpling it in the process.

Tyler raised his hands in mock surrender and mouthed _"Touchy…" _to Alaric.

Elena blew the hair out of her face, exchanged a look with Katherine, then stood awkwardly, a few paces behind Damon. She had no clue how to begin saying what she so badly needed to say.

But Damon turned his head towards her before she'd even uttered a single word. He looked her up and down and downed the contents of his glass._ 'Limp. Bruises. Busted lip. Bandages.' _He felt the familiar mix of guilt, pity and concern stirring in his stomach. He even made a move to fix her carelessly wrapped wrist but then thought better of it.

"Damon, I-" she began tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't do anything with that guy. You have to trust me."

There was a soft crunching sound as Damon's grip on the glass tightened. "Cold, hard, photographic evidence isn't easy to refute, sweetheart," he said dryly. He tilted his head towards her and the lack of emotion in his eyes honestly scared her a little. "Tell me what I should believe, Elena."

Ric and Tyler kept their gazes on the mahogany table in front of them in silence, trying hard to tune out the conversation behind them, while Katherine stood meekly in the corner, averting her eyes from the pair's intense exchange.

Letting her shoulders go slack in frustration, Elena let her bag slip from her shoulder and fall to the ground with a thud. "I don't understand where those photos came from either!"

"You went to a _hotel_ with him, Elena!" Damon boomed, taking a step towards her, daring her to prove him wrong.

"It- It wasn't if I was there or not! It's complicated… Before I realized I was there-" she stuttered, "Wait, that's not what I meant to say. I mean… in other words…"

"Dam- _Mr. Salvatore_…" Katherine cut in, her head bowed. "Please believe Elena." She looked up at Damon innocently and batted her eyelashes. "I mean, it's a fact that 'Lena and that guy were in a hotel room alone together; these photos are proof of it. But… I'm sure there's a really good reason!" Her tone was way too sickly sweet, even to Elena.

"BE QUIET!" Damon roared, his eyes flaring. "Who do you think you're talking to?!"

"Hey! You don't have to take it out on Katherine!" Elena fired back at him, her anger boiling at Damon's sudden _autocratic_ outburst.

"Elena, it's okay!" Katherine cried.

"Wha- I beg your pardon?!"

"I know Damon's hurt too! I just… I just want you two to make up…"

Damon looked at Elena carefully. His voice came out cold, low and excruciatingly honest. "I feel like you betrayed me."

Elena looked at him in disbelief and then everything came rushing out. "_Unbelievable!_ I already told you a million and one times that it _wasn't_ true! And what do you mean I _betrayed _you, Damon?! I'm not even going out with you! So what gives you the right to say things like that?!"

* * *

><p>Elena regretted what she'd said the very second she'd said it. Her words stung him like a slap on the face. He was aware of the fact that she wasn't his, but just hearing her say it out loud… Damon clenched his jaw and fixed his gaze on the wall behind her, as if he were looking right through Elena. She hung her head, ashamed of her low blow and stepped closer to him, her hand gently grabbing the fabric of his polo shirt. "Look, I'm sorr-"<p>

"Don't, Elena... You can't assume it'll all be fine and dandy just 'cause it's _you_ who's asking. You're right; I'm nothing to you. Seems like you just wasted your time coming here then." He pulled away from her grasp, grabbed his jacket, and made his way towards the back of the den, well out of her sight.

Elena looked around the room, her cheeks turning bright red. She was fuming. "FINE! God, you are so immature! There's absolutely no reason I should have to explain myself. MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR COMING HERE, _MASTER_ SALVATORE."

Elena stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. And Katherine, after nodding shyly at Alaric and Tyler, followed quickly after her friend.

"Hold on, you dropped..." Tyler called out, picking up a piece of cloth from the carpet, "…your handkerchief." He muttered, knowing Katherine was well out of the premises by now._ 'Hell, she's probably halfway to China by now…' _he thought.

Ric stood up and smoothed down his polo. "That's really too bad," he sighed, "I thought they made a pretty nice couple."

Tyler ran his fingertips along the handkerchief's pink lace border before stuffing it into his breast pocket. "Meh, it's better off this way. At least she made it a hundred percent clear that she has zero percent interest in going out with him."

"Hmm, maybe."

Meanwhile, Damon sat silently in a corner, listening to his friends' words with glassy eyes and a heavy heart.

* * *

><p>Elena had to fold her legs in just to fit her entire body into the tiny bathtub of Aunt Jenna's apartment. She rested her elbow on the edge of the tub and cradled her head, unable to cleanse her mind of the day's events. She shook her head then twisted her hair into a neat bun.<p>

"What the hell…" she murmured to herself.

* * *

><p><em>It took Damon three smooth steps to stand before her. He looked down at her, his eyes brimming with emotion and his voice thick. "Elena, what you feel matters." He gently took her face between his hands and gave her a sad smile. "Believe me. If you're seriously in love with Stefan, he'll end up falling for you too. It's inevitable."<em>

_'You're her, the 100% perfect girl,' Damon thought, 'Sadly, Stefan realized that first.'_

_"You, Elena, are the only girl I approve of._

* * *

><p>"Don't say things like that if you're not going to have the decency to trust me!" Elena said, frustrated, splashing the bath water and accidentally soaking the gashes on her arm in the soapy liquid. "Ow!" She groaned. <em>'This just isn't my day…'<em>

* * *

><p>Once again, Damon found himself sitting on the particular leather wing-back chair that Elena had been sitting in when he'd had her gussied up and looking red-carpet-ready. <em>'God, she was beautiful.'<em>

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. With a groan, he dragged a hand across his face. On the table before him was the outfit Alfred had pre-prepared, and draped across the glass was a brand new scarf. It was a gift from one of Giuseppe's business associates. _'A gift given with the sole intention of buttering up the heir to the Salvatore Worldwide Financial Group.'_ It was cream, 100% cashmere and it must have cost thousands of dollars, yet Damon threw it on the ground because all it did was remind him that there was something better.

* * *

><p><em>It was only then he noticed the worn wool around his neck. He tugged on the scarf until it pooled into his hands. He looked down at it for a few seconds, ran the striped, red fabric through his fingers, then shifted his expectant gaze towards Elena, who shyly avoided eye contact.<em>

_He took a step closer to her and wordlessly extended the hand that held the soft wool._

_"Yeah, that's mine…" Elena said, awkwardly taking the scarf._

_The tips of their fingers brushed each other for the tiniest moment and when Elena looked up into his eyes, they held inexplicable amounts of gratitude._

* * *

><p>"You feeling chilly?" Aunt Jenna asked, raising a brow at her niece who chose to wear a long-sleeved shirt and thick, flannel pajama bottoms on a particularly warm night.<p>

"Huh? …Oh yeah! It's real cold tonight," Elena brushed off, carrying the plates to the sink.

Jenna reached out and felt Elena's forehead with the back of her hand. "You're not sick, are you?"

Elena immediately brought her arms to her sides. She shook her head and forced a smile. She could _not _let Jenna see the cuts and bruises. _'God knows what that woman would do…'_

Jeremy plopped down at the dinner table with an old, beat-up Polaroid camera. "Check this old guy out!" he said excitedly, blowing away a layer of dust.

"Woah, where'd you get _that_ from, Jer?"

"I found it looking through one of dad's old boxes!" Jeremy smiled softly. He turned the machine over a couple of times in his hands with a pensive expression before his face completely lit up. "I'm pretty sure I got it to work! Let's take a photo of the three of us together, huh!"

Jenna and Elena exchanged a look and giggled at the boy's enthusiasm as he placed the camera on a stack of books and hurried over to his aunt and sister. The trio smiled for a good five seconds before Elena slapped her forehead. "Uhhh, guys… who's gonna take the photo?…" They all burst out into fits of laughter before Elena stood up and said, "Oh, I'll take it."

The camera flashed the exact moment Elena was struck with an epiphany. She instantly shoved the camera into Jeremy's hands then made a beeline for her room, letting the print float slowly to the floor and leaving a very baffled pair in the kitchen.

Jenna picked the photo up, smiled and scratched her head. "Hmm, wonder what that was about… She's acting strange, isn't she?"

Jeremy chuckled, still tinkering with the camera. "Psssh, you're preaching to the choir, sister…"

"Har har. Dishes. Now."

* * *

><p>"There <em>must<em> have been someone _else _there who took the picture!" Elena said breathlessly. She placed her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder as she dug through her messenger bag for the crumpled photo. "Found it! From this angle, this guy couldn't have taken the picture himself. Someone else had to be in that hotel room that night!"

"I'm going to find out who did this." Elena smoothed out the creases and held the photo up to the light. "Kat, you think you can help me out?"

The voice on the other end of the line was fuzzy. _'Bass beats? Is she at a club?_ '

"Listen, 'Lena… are you doing this whole Nancy Drew charade for Damon's sake?"

"What, I-?"

"Just forget about him! _Who cares_ what he thinks? He didn't even try to sympathize with you one bit." Elena was a bit taken aback by the bitterness that was dripping from Katherine's every word. "Besides, Elena, have you forgotten everything he's put you through?!"

Elena's brows drew together. "You're right, bu-"

"I'm sorry, 'Lena, but if you're doing this for _him_, then I can't help you out." Then the sickeningly sweet voice filled Elena's ears once more. "But no matter what happens, I'll always be on your side, okay?"

"Okay… Well, I'll call you back soon for an update, okay? Kat? Katherine, you're breaking up…" Elena heard the familiar dial tone and flipped her phone shut. _'Thanks anyway…'_

* * *

><p>Caroline looked up from the assortment of cupcakes she was arranging and gave Elena a look of concern. "But isn't it <em>dangerous <em>to be looking for the culprit?"

Elena wiped down the counter then wiped her brow with the back of her arm. "I know it is…" The two had been playing detective the entire morning yet they were still badly in need of a good game plan. Elena was about to admit they were at a dead-end before they had even started investigating but the bell above the door rang cheerily and brought them both back to earth and their job.

"Can I help y-" Elena spotted them almost instantly. Two good-looking men in Armani stuck out like sore thumbs in the quaint, little bakery she and Caroline worked at. "Morning, Elena!" Ric and Tyler greeted, sliding casually into a booth. "Morning, Care…" Tyler sang, earning a glare from Caroline.

Elena's eyes grew wide. "What're you guys doing here?"

"_Well_," Ric started, grabbing a menu, "Tyler just broke up with Maddison… _and_ Arabella… _and_ Lorraine… and he wanted a slice of pie, by virtue of the fact that he's feeling pretty down."

Tyler pouted. "Our love was pure…" Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, we're here 'cause some twisted jerk spread dirty photos around school and made this one particular girl really sad. So we thought we'd come over here and try to cheer her up." Alaric glanced at Elena from the top of the menu.

Elena crossed her arms and shook her head with a small smile. "So, in other words, you guys have got time to kill?"

"Yup!" Ric and Tyler grinned.

"So we heard you're gonna do some detective work…" Tyler mused. Elena was dumbstruck. "My connections reach far and wide," he gestured.

Caroline scoffed. "Oh please! I sent them texts about half an hour ago. You're gonna need help, Elena..." She leaned in and whispered to her best friend. "…even if it is from these two weirdos."

"You ask, I come… I'm easy like that." Tyler winked at her, causing Caroline to roll her eyes _yet_ again.

"Let _us_ help…" Ric insisted, "Tyler, you stay here with Caroline and work in Elena's place…" He motioned for Elena's apron then threw it at Tyler.

"WHAAAT?"

Before Tyler could refuse, Alaric had dragged him up by the arm and towards the entrance of the bakery. Ric cleared his throat and in his best salesman voice hollered, "Welcome! Welcome! With every twenty-dollar purchase from this here pâtisserie, you will also get a kiss from this here gentleman! Cakes, cupcakes and _kisses_, everyone!"

Suddenly, a barrage of desperate housewives and heartbroken schoolgirls flocked to the shop, holding up their wallets and squealing at a deafening pitch. Ric pulled Elena out the door, dusted off his corduroy blazer, then ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair.

Alaric grinned. "_Aw yeah!_ I _always _wanted to be a detective!" He turned to face a stupefied Elena with a smirk on his face. "C'mon, Holmes, we're going to clear your name, apprehend a miscreant and solve a mystery today. Let the sleuthing_ begin_."

* * *

><p>AN: Woah, I updated! [insert fireworks here] HAHAHA

Gonna ask you guys to pray for my country, the Philippines! If you've haven't heard yet, we're experiencing extremely devastating rains and floods over here. :-(

On a somewhat lighter note, this story is nearly ending! Wipe off that frown though; there may be a seeequel! ;-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	15. THE CHASE

**CHAPTER 15 - THE CHASE**

"I- I want you to help me find the person behind all of this."

Damon sat on the antiqued leather sofa of his den, rubbing his temple irritably. He begrudgingly summoned just enough decency to turn his head around to look at her. Katherine stood behind him, anxiously picking at her cream-colored satchel.

"This has nothing to do with me," he growled.

The heady scent of his den alone was making her brave. "But don't you wanna find out the truth… whether she really had something going on with that guy or not?"

Damon narrowed his eyes and turned away from her once more.

But Katherine was feeling uncharacteristically persistent and tenacious this afternoon. She wasn't about to take no for an answer. "I'll be waiting on Wickery Bridge later this afterno-"

"I'm _not_ coming," he enunciated each word carefully, vehemently.

All he wanted to do right now was get this whole Elena issue off his mind. He wanted to stop thinking about her, to stop worrying about her… to stop needing her. But then here came this little twat, fully ensuring that he couldn't. _'Who am I kidding… As if I ever __**could**__ anyway…' _he muttered inwardly.

He got up and crossed his arms, his form nearly towering over hers. "Who, _the hell, _are you?"

* * *

><p>Elena bit her lip, trying to reign in her focus. Alaric had suggested they first grab iced coffees, a pick-me-up to get their brains going as they began with their investigative research. The elaborate frappuccino remained untouched before her though; she already felt too on edge as it was.<p>

"Do you believe me?" Elena asked softly.

"Well, I'm here helping you aren't I?" Alaric jeered, making her smile hesitantly. "You're a good person, Elena. You don't have it in you to do something like this."

Her voice came out in a barely audible whisper. "Do you think Damon believes me?"

"I think… he wants to, _very _badly. But he's hurt. He doesn't think straight with the feeling. Give him some time; he'll come around."

Propping his chin up on his hand, Ric squinted at the wide screen of his laptop. "If only we had some clues…" he grumbled. His fingers danced on the trackpad, his brows furrowing in deep concentration. With a few clicks, he'd zoomed-in on the risqué photograph of Elena, particularly on the man lying by her side. Elena watched as he expertly magnified the man's hand and, without the slightest pixelation and a little Saltzman magic, it revealed a uniquely designed ring on the man's finger.

Elena's eyes grew wide. "Boom," Ric breathed.

* * *

><p>Damon was seriously contemplating slamming his head against the wall. He'd been feeling testy since his explosive exchange with Elena. <em>'To talk to her or to give her space? To be angry with her or to comfort her?' <em>Jealousy, pain, anger, worry, care, hurt. They were all blurring together. Needless to say, his emotions were running amok and he wasn't the least bit used to it. There was no manual, no emergency protocol, nowhere to hide from them.

"_But don't you wanna find out the truth… whether she really had something going on with that guy or not?" _The Pierce girl had made a convincing proposition. One he found he couldn't refuse.

A succession of dull thuds echoed through the empty room as he tapped his feet on the plush carpet. He ran both hands through his gloriously tousled hair and shot up, resolved to take little miss Pierce up on her offer. As angry as he was with Elena, he couldn't just sit idly by and let her slip through his fingers.

He took two steps towards the door before it was swung open by Alfred. The no-nonsense look in his eyes and the grim line his mouth was set in were warning signals. _'Guiseppe's back.'_

A phalanx of body guards followed through the door, preceding a salt-and-pepper-haired Giuseppe Salvatore, sharp gray Armani and all.

Damon tugged a little at his skinny black tie and regarded his father coolly. "Weren't you heading back to New York?"

Giuseppe glared at his son, a look of disdain in his grey eyes. Reaching into his breast pocket, he produced a copy of Elena's photograph and threw it at Damon's feet. Simply seeing the print again made the younger Salvatore's blood boil. "So, it was _you_? You did this?!** You** ordered someone to take these photographs."

"No, Damon, I did not," the older Salvatore said in a spine-chilling tone. "I do not stoop to _this_ level. I do not play your petty games. If you've noticed at all, I've been busy running a Fortune 500 company."

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "What are you doing sneaking around and spying on me, dad?"

"When will you learn…" Giuseppe shook his head. "You are the heir to the Salvatore Financial Group. You have no business getting involved with such a _corrupt_ girl!" His voice boomed.

Damon bristled with anger at the term, his eyes flaring.

"Oh no, don't even_ try_ going down that road, Damon. The puppy-love shit you have going on here, it's foolish. Jesus, it's downright embarrassing!"

"Master Salvatore, your flight is ready," Alfred cut in softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Giuseppe straightened his suit then turned towards the door, shooting one last disappointed glance towards his son. "Grow up."

Alfred's head hung low as he shut the door softly behind him. Master Giuseppe had, once again, succeeded at making his eldest son feel worthless.

Damon snapped out of his reverie, his father's verbal assault leaving him a bit off-kilter. He swallowed the lump in his throat, only then realizing he had been holding his breath throughout his father's whole tirade.

* * *

><p>The sun had already begun to set, igniting the sky in an orange blaze as Katherine stood on Wickery Bridge, convinced that Damon wouldn't… <em>couldn't <em>reject her offer. In a desperate move, she'd played the Elena card, Damon's Achilles' heel, and if that didn't work, very little else could.

After adjusting the carnation pink bow on her head and making sure her curls were perfectly intact, she leaned her elbows on the old iron railings and let out a sigh. _'He's not coming and you look stupid. Stupid, stupid, stu-' _ The moment Katherine looked up, her mental chastisement came to a screeching halt.

Damon strode towards her, an unreadable expression on his chiseled face. He had his hands in his pockets and the vent of his slick, black jacket flitting behind him. With a look of distraction, he stared straight ahead, seeming to fight an inner battle.

Katherine couldn't hide the excitement building in her gut and the smug smile that graced her lips. _'He came.'_

* * *

><p>"This is from your store, am I right?"<p>

The stocky manager of the high-end jewelry store put the photograph down on the glass display and narrowed his eyes at Alaric. "Very clever of you to be able to trace it back to my establishment, Mr. Saltzman. The ring is one of our items, yes."

Alaric fought the urge to roll his eyes. A few calls to his jewelers and a town-wide online catalogue search hardly demonstrated cleverness.

"Who bought it?"

"Ah, well, we respect the Customer Privacy Policy in this store, sir. We simply cannot give out information of that nature."

Elena looked at Ric, perhaps this is where the goose chase ended. She felt out of place enough, wearing a shirt and jeans in a store with diamonds displayed wall-to-wall. Ric turned away from the manager and gave Elena a small, reassuring smile.

Alaric cleared his throat ceremoniously and put his hands firmly on the glass display. "Perhaps, I should open up my own little boutique down the street. I do have a lot of fine jewelry I've been getting tired of…"

Fidgety, the manager's eyes darted between the two. "He's a male patron! One of our most valued clientele," he spoke quickly, sizing up the powerful young man before him.

Elena marveled at the scene unfolding before her. Alaric was certainly a master of manipulation.

"Which club does he frequent?"

The man adjusted his tie with a gulp. "That information… is protected…"

_'A challenge?'_ "Maybe I'll buy this entire area and turn it into a nightclub instead," Ric's voice was deadly serious. "I _have_ been wanting to invest lately…"

The manager wiped the sweat from his brow. "Go get this gentleman some coffee," he barked at his assistant, his voice coming out too tight. "Buy it from the café next to the club Republiq. Next to _Republiq_, you got that?" His assistant, clearly stumped, nodded and scurried off.

Ric shot Elena a knowing smirk then warmly shook hands with the manager. "I appreciate your help, good sir. Have your finest diamonds delivered to my château," he beamed, scribbling his name on the store ledger.

* * *

><p>"Would you have <em>honestly<em> bought the place?" Elena raised a brow.

Alaric donned a big goofy grin. "Nah, I quite like the rocks they sell over there."

The sleuthing pair walked side by side down the street, headed for Republiq. "Ohhh, this place," Ric said, turning the GPS on his phone towards Elena. "It's the same club Hayley works at."

'_Who's Hayley?…'_ Elena wondered… "Not as a _waitress_, I assume." _'Ugh, what kind of normal high schooler would even know such a place…'_

"No, Elena, not as a waitress," Ric grinned mischievously.

She rolled her eyes at him with an answering grin, one that completely dissipated when she turned her gaze straight ahead. Damon paused momentarily as his eyes met Elena's. His brisk stride slowed to a walk as he neared her. Katherine, following Damon like a puppy, paced herself as well.

Elena's jaw dropped slightly in disbelief. _'What are those two doing together?'_

"Hey, Damon!" Alaric greeted with a nod. "You on the search for the culprit too?"

_'So this is what she's been doing all day... club-hopping with Alaric.' _Damon thought, the green-eyed monster making its presence felt. Damon tore his gaze from Elena and regarded Alaric shrewdly, "Of course not." _'Damned pride.'_

"Then what are you doing with _her_?" Alaric raised a brow. Elena, mouth dry and unable to speak, mentally thanked him for posing the one question on her mind.

Damon glanced at the timid girl behind him, just as Katherine bit her lip and looked down at her feet. He then stared pointedly at Ric. "Going out on this fine day," Damon replied dryly. "Can't you tell?"

For a brief moment, he looked at Elena, who pressed her lips together in a hard line and who stared down at the ground as if she'd just been dealt a forceful blow.

"Come on," Damon muttered to Katherine, ignoring every single urge in his body and walking past Elena without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

><p>The dowdy middle-aged woman staggered out of the pâtisserie with a box of cupcakes and a dreamy look on her face. She was the lucky fifty-first customer that day.<p>

Tyler leaned in and gave the metal-mouthed preteen a kiss on the cheek. She then swirled around and squealed with her friends, who began jumping up and down on cue.

"Thank you for your purchase, ma'am! Thank you very much!" Caroline gleamed.

Tyler was in no rush to get out of the bakery as long as he could see that uninhibited smile of hers again. He snapped out of his thoughts and playfully groaned, "How many more women are there?!"

Caroline laughed heartily. "See, that's funny 'cause you're a womanizer, and here you are, tired of women!" Tyler's eyes reached for the heavens, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, lucky for you..." Caroline rang a bell, put her hands on her hips and hollered, "That's the last of it, ladies! We're all sold out!"

The women wailed and pouted, making Caroline giggle inwardly. "Terribly sorry. Come back soon, yes!"

Tyler shrugged out of his jacket, fanned himself dramatically and slumped back in his seat. "Whew, guess my work is done here!"

"Nuh-uh-uh... _Not_ so fast, hotshot." Caroline tossed him a rag with a sweet smile. "Clean-up time."

* * *

><p>Katherine batted her eyelashes at the concierge of The Escala Hotel, pushing Elena's scandalous photo across the black marble countertop with her manicured finger.<p>

"Ah, yes, I remember that girl. She was certainly here."

Damon leaned back on the counter impassively as Katherine chatted up the staff. Although, as hard as he tried to feign disinterest, his ears perked up at the mention of Elena.

"You saw her… _them_ for yourself?" Katherine asked.

"Oh yes," he gave a knowing chuckle, "It was… _obvious_ from their behavior that… They headed to this hotel for a reason, miss."

Katherine glanced tentatively at Damon, the look in his steel blue eyes, below zero degrees cold. She swallowed. "May we please have a look at that room?"

* * *

><p>Katherine pushed the door open to the penthouse. The room was chic and clearly expensive. Fine paisley wallpaper covered the walls and plush red sofas were artistically positioned around the room. She glanced around and held the photograph up to the light. "This is definitely the room. Elena was here, on this bed, with that guy. They really did spend a whole night together, huh."<p>

Damon snatched the picture from her hand and strode over to the opulent, queen-sized bed. It was the exact same bed from the photo, and Damon saw red. All he could imagine was this sleazeball, his hands roaming all over Elena's body, claiming her as his.

Enraged, he threw the print down on the bed and swung his arm, knocking the lamp right off the bedside table. The smash made Katherine flinch. Damon, breathing heavily, crashed onto the mattress, clutching his head in his hands.

After a few beats of silence had passed, she approached him carefully and spoke in a honeyed voice. "Are you alright, Damon?" She inched closer and closer placing her hand delicately on his bicep. "She's betrayed me as well," she whispered. "For some reason, I feel so disgusted by this whole thing." She sat beside his lying figure on the bed, biting her lip. "Don't you feel the same way?"

Damon remained silent. He draped his arm over his eyes and tried to tune out this girl's insistent yapping. He felt as if a humongous gaping hole had been punched right through him.

"You don't need to feel so sad." Katherine cooed lying on her back beside him. "Unlike her, I won't betray you." She ran a hand across his chest, closed her eyes and leaned her face down to his.

Damon shot up from the bed before she had the chance to plant her lips on his. His eyes were ablaze, single-minded determination etched in the blue. "I _need_ to see her," he said simply, adamantly, as if convincing himself of the fact. He'd paid no attention whatsoever to anything Katherine had just said. He simply didn't care. And just like that, he strode out the door, leaving a disbelieving, wide-eyed Katherine in his wake.

* * *

><p>Alaric and Elena stood by the elevated bar at Republiq, scanning the crowd. The night was young and the club wasn't teeming with obscenely wealthy men, wild teenagers and easy women just yet.<p>

"I don't see him anywhere," Elena sighed. "Look, Ric, I think I've had enough of this Encyclopedia Brown stuff for one day. I think I'm ready to call it a night."

Ric eyed Elena wearily then leaned towards her, speaking above the music. "Alright. I'm gonna go see if anyone's wearing that ring. Try not to get yourself into trouble," he jested, shooting her a cautious look before disappearing into the crowd.

Elena waved him away and took a swig of the club soda, staring dejectedly at her glass, badly wishing it was hard liquor. _'No, Elena… that's what got you into this mess in the first place.'_

After a few more sips, Elena hopped off the barstool and headed into the chilly night air. She walked aimlessly, ending up at the town square. Elena couldn't get the sight of Damon and Katherine together out of her mind. Seeing them together hurt her so much more than she let on.

"_There_ you are…" Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, taking a seat beside Elena on the park bench. "I just finished closing up the bakery when Alaric sends me a text message telling me to make sure you're okay. What's wrong, 'Lena?" The blonde tilted her head, concern for her friend evident in her expression.

Elena turned towards her best friend, tears prickling at the back of her eyes. "Care, you know how I… liked Stefan _a lot_."

"Yeah, your knight in shining white armor," Caroline smiled fondly, remembering a simpler time.

"Up until recently, my heart was dead-set on Stefan... or someone like him, at least… someone kind, caring, understanding, someone who loves purely and unconditionally. But earlier, **_he _**was… When Damon was walking with Katherine… I mean, deep down, I know there's nothing between them, but my chest stung with pain, Care. I couldn't help feeling… hurt." Elena's voice broke at the end, tears clouding her vision.

Caroline smiled sadly at her best friend and linked their arms together. "'Lena, this is just what I think but, love kind of happens when you least expect it, huh?"

"…love?"

Caroline nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nooo way. _Me _and _him_? I would never…"

Caroline stared at her friend, a small, knowing smile dancing on her lips. The blonde rummaged through her bag and handed Elena a tissue, which she accepted gratefully.

Elena's explanation was interrupted by her ringtone. She drew out her phone from her pocket and squinted at the screen. "It's… Katherine," Caroline motioned for her to take the call.

"'Lena," Katherine spoke, timid as ever. "Damon just asked me to give you a call."

"He… did?"

"He says he wants to forget all of this and make up with you."

Elena couldn't stop her heart from leaping to her throat. "He does?"

"He's just too proud to tell you himself, you know how he is. Come to my house. Damon's waiting for you here."

* * *

><p>Katherine hung up with a flourish, dropping the phone to the table without a second thought.<p>

The silver knife glinted dangerously in her hand as she slashed away on the paper, carving and etching madly on the surface until she was satisfied with her work.

In a daze, she tied up her tight curls with a light pink ribbon then gently opened a drawer. With careful movements, she took out a well-concealed, leather-bound box of photographs. She kissed the lid and ever so slowly, she traipsed over to the fireplace. One by one, she tossed the photographs into the flickering flame. The light of the blaze reflected in her glassy, maniacal eyes. After the box had been emptied, Katherine kept her eyes on the flare, not tearing her gaze away even when the intensity of the light began to hurt her eyes.

She stared fixedly at the faces on the charred, damaged prints, the many faces of Damon Salvatore, slowly turning to ash.

And ever-so-slowly, she smiled.

* * *

><p>AN: Updating to celebrate _**4.07 - "My Brother's Keeper"**_! "Delena Delena Delena" would've actually been an appropriate title as well! Haha! Still reeling over that one!

One or two more chapters left in this story! The big exposé's right up next! :-)

_**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**_


	16. THE GAME OF CLUE

**CHAPTER 16 - THE GAME OF CLUE  
><strong>

'_Damon's waiting for you.'_

'_Damon's waiting for you.'_

* * *

><p>…<em>as the frenzied people dispersed from the Town Square, seeking shelter from the rain, she saw him.<em>

_The rain fell harder, beating down on him, but he remained still. She could make out his figure leaning on the clock tower, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. His head was bent down in complete and utter defeat, and his eyes were glued to the ground. He stood there, a broken man._

_The sight tugged on her heartstrings, hard._

'_He waited.'_

* * *

><p>'<em>Damon's waiting for you.'<em>

Katherine's words echoed like a mantra in Elena's head, and she bit her lip in a useless attempt to hide her dazed, goofy-as-hell smile. Elena ran down the block faster than she'd ever run before, oblivious to stoplight colors or odd looks from passers-by. The wind whipped viciously across her face as she whipped past the cars trapped in gridlocks of traffic. Even when her lungs began to burn deliciously and her legs felt like they were about to give out, Elena hardly noticed and frankly, she didn't care.

Because _he_ was waiting for _her_, and this time around, she wouldn't keep him waiting any longer.

* * *

><p>Alaric stretched his arms over the back of the black leather sofa. After a mere half an hour of being at Republiq, he was flanked by women who were practically drooling over him. Yet the ladies at the club, with their dark eye shadow and micro miniskirts, barely garnered a fraction of his attention. In his single-minded nature, he was intent on finding out exactly who it was that framed Elena.<p>

"Two more bottles of the Dom Perignon Platinum," the woman to his right smirked at the waiter. The ladies knew they could indulge when Alaric slid his black card across the table and spoke the words, _"It's on me." _Meanwhile, the blonde on his left had taken to burying her face in the crook of his neck, planting feather-light kisses right under his earlobe.

Alaric knew the interrogation approach was a long shot but he had to give it a try. "I'm assuming you ladies come 'round her often; would you have happened to come across this here ring…" Right when he reached into his breast pocket to retrieve the photograph of Elena and the mystery man, the blonde seated beside him was yanked up forcefully by what looked like a pissed-off boyfriend.

"Get up, Lacey," he said gruffly.

"Hey, take it easy." Alaric said, rising to his feet and sizing up the man.

"Let me go," the blonde said testily. "I'm not your girlfriend!"

Not even sparing Alaric a glance, the man's eyes flared. "Yeah, well that dress you're wearing, and everything underneath it, _I_ paid for that, honey. So you _owe_ me." The blonde attempted to struggle out of his vice-like grip to no avail as he began to drag her away from Ric's table.

But not before Alaric could catch a good glimpse of a uniquely designed ring on the man's finger.

His eyes grew wide in recognition and clicked his tongue. He downed what liquor was left in his glass, cracked his knuckles and began rolling up his sleeves. "Gotcha."

* * *

><p>The sky had already turned dark when Elena made it to the Pierce manor. Finding the door slightly ajar, she let herself in. She untangled the red striped scarf from her neck, her legs all but buckling underneath her. Her heavy breaths echoed in the large, seemingly empty foyer. "Hello?... Katherine?"<p>

Glancing around the pristine abode, it was only then that Elena noticed how every piece of furniture strangely seemed to be in its perfect place; all looked antiqued and unused. In the dim light of evening, the place looked less like the home of a princess and more like a spinster's prison.

Elena rolled her shoulders and shrugged off the chill creeping up her spine. She turned around and nearly jumped out of her own skin at the sight of Katherine, standing a few feet behind her with a small smile on her lips.

"Oh god, Kat!" Elena whirled around, clutching her chest. "You freaked me out! Hey, look, I'm sorry, the door was open and I let myself in. Is… Damon still here?"

With a slight twitch of her eye, Katherine hooked her hands behind her back and simply grinned wider at Elena. "You must be exhausted. I'll go make us some tea, okay!"

Elena tilted her head ever so slightly. "O-oh…. okay then. I'll… wait here." Baffled and at a complete loss, she could do nothing more but stand there and watch her so-called "friend", turn away into the dark recesses of her home.

* * *

><p>Caroline was trying hard to focus on making herself a cup of hot coffee, yet she was trying even harder to stop staring at Tyler, whose biceps flexed with every wipe of the counter. Before they began cleaning up the pâtisserie, Tyler had stripped of his heavy Armani, apart from a fit black undershirt, and though his back was turned to her, all his muscles were <em>very<em> clearly defined.

Quite engrossed in her ogling, Caroline barely even noticed she'd been stirring the contents of her cup for a solid ten minutes.

"Smooth…

That's.. pro'lly as smooth as it's gonna get," Tyler mused knowingly, still facing the counter.

Being blatantly called-out on her little peep show, Caroline jumped slightly in the booth, knocking over the cup of coffee completely. She yelped and slid out of the booth as the warm liquid came in contact with her skin. _'Shit! Smooth, Caroline, smooth…'_

At that sound, Tyler rushed to her side. "You okay?" He asked, his brows furrowing as he took her hand and inspected the pinking skin.

"Fine…" Caroline breathed, withdrawing her hand and turning away from him in an attempt to hide the pink making its way to her cheeks.

"Here," Tyler offered, reaching into his pocket and producing a dainty piece of cloth. He took another step closer to Caroline and began wiping the coffee off her hands.

Caroline cleared her throat weakly, tearing her eyes away from the concern and the careful concentration she saw in his. "I don't know what to make of a guy who carries a lacey, periwinkle _hanky_ around," Caroline smirked up at him.

Tyler smirked back down at her, about to make a slick reply, when his eye caught something on the ground that had fallen out from the folded piece of cloth: a tiny, red envelope.

Caroline cocked her head, her smile fading away as his did. "What is it?"

"It's not mine… the handkerchief… it's… Katherine's." Tyler spoke, piecing it all together in his head as he picked up the red envelope from the floor.

'_A red notice.'_

* * *

><p>Alaric slammed the man forcefully into the wall for the nth time. "Let's try this again… who put you up to this?! Who took the pictures!?"<p>

"YOU YUPPIE SCUM!" The man growled, wiping the blood from the side of his mouth. He lunged at Alaric, who deftly and quite effortlessly dodged his punches. The sound of crunching bone echoed in the damp, darkness of the alley as Ric's fist made contact with the man's jaw. He was twice Ric's size but about a hundred times slower. Ric held him in a headlock and spoke in the most chilling tone.

"I did Judo, Tae Kwon Do, and Aikido when I was in _elementary school_. I've taught Krav Maga classes before, and I join boxing matches for _fun_. This is _me_ taking it easy on _you_, asshole."

The beaten man helplessly clawed at Alaric's arm around his neck.

"T-this chick paid me to do it!" he wheezed, out of breath.

Ric loosened his grip infinitesimally. "A chick? ...who?!"

"Kitten! She—goes by the name Kitten 'round here. She's got her daddy's money, lots of it, and she's a total prissy princess. That's all I know, I swear. P-please… let me go!"

"Okay, listen up, punk. I have powerful friends who have powerful friends. And if you turn up on our radar EVER again, I will personally mess you up so bad, the only way anyone will be able to identify you will be by your dental records."

Ric shoved the guy aside and he bolted away, stumbling as he did.

Alaric scoffed and headed back inside the club to wash the blood off his knuckles. Just as he was about to take a well-deserved swig of alcohol, his phone began to buzz.

"Hey Ty, I found the son of a bitch at the club.

Yes, I beat the living shit out of him.

Not much, just something about this rich priss called 'Kitten'…

Hold up… you found _**what**_.

Holy shit."

* * *

><p>Something was horribly off and Elena knew it. If Damon was really in this place, she needed to find him <em>now<em>. She turned a corner and found herself in a dimly lit hallway.

"Damooon..." she whispered to no response.

All the doors were shut but Elena noticed a soft orange glow under the second door to her left. She took a bated breath, hoped it wasn't locked, turned the gold knob and was faced with a lavish study. The glow, she realized, was coming from the fireplace by the side. Upon finding no one inside the room, Elena took a step back, about to pull the door closed when a glint of silver caught her eye atop the mahogany table.

An awful feeling settled in the pit of Elena's stomach and she found herself nearing the table in a mix of intrigue and curiosity. She picked up the single leather-bound, glossy-paged book that lay open on the surface and marveled at what she saw. The pages were covered in photos of young students in sharp navy blue blazers.

'_It's The Falls Academy..'_

As Elena looked closer, she realized there were more than just photos of students; there were also photos of four, young boys, not in uniforms but expensive-looking clothing, being served by renowned chefs, learning advanced subjects in private classrooms, students that were clearly set apart from their less important classmates…

"…The Archetypes._" _Elena breathed knowingly.

They were much younger in the photos but not much else looked different. They still had the same mischievous eyes and trademark smirks. Elena was especially hung up on one picture; in it, a blue-eyed boy who sported the bedhead look had his arm around a smaller boy with short, caramel-brown hair. A timid Stefan smiled sheepishly in the photo but a grinning Damon had him in a headlock, and was messing up his brother's hair. Elena smiled at the precious photo of the Salvatore brothers. She turned to the cover of the book and ran her finger along the embossed gold lettering.

'_The Falls Middle School Yearbook… hmm, whoever it belongs to must be a Senior now, like the Archetypes…_

_It.. couldn't be….'_

Elena was slowly piecing it all together in her head. Her hands began to tremble as she opened the book once more to a page that, telling from the spine, the book had been opened to many times before.

It was a page tiled with yearbook photos and one in particular caught Elena's eye. The text beneath the photo read: Damon Salvatore. But his telltale blue eyes and most of his face had been hatefully scratched out beyond recognition.

Elena's blood ran cold and she dropped the book in utter terror.

Unbeknownst to her, Katherine stood at the threshold of the study, her fingers turning white from her vicious grip on the sleek metal tea tray. Her soft amber eyes looked utterly deranged as her delicate baby pink lips curved into the most sinister of smiles.

'_Mmm, just how I like my tea…'_ she thought, staring at Elena's frightened frame.

'_Weak.'_

* * *

><p>AN: I know, I know... it's been YEEEARS since I updated! Sorry, I've been in a funk 'cause of the Nian break-up. :'(

Anyway, about one more chapter of utter Delena goodness left in this baby! Then maybe a sequel! :-)

Wasn't Tyline just the cutest in this chapter?! I found that scene uber cute, not to toot my own horn... HAHAHA. Dedicated to one of my besties, a Caroline in my life, Kians (aka Tundra Goldrock) whose 18th birthday's this week! Love you, Kiananers! :-)

__**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW! :)**__


End file.
